A second roll of the dice
by elliebongo
Summary: Eighth year Hogwarts Dramione drama - a Draco redemption story set amidst the aftermath.
1. The Burrow

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

The summer after the Battle of Hogwarts had been one of extremes.

The devastating toll on wizarding Britain was difficult to avoid with the funerals of so many on both sides following the victory in quick succession. Hermione had worn her black dress and sensible black shoes more times than she'd care to remember. She thought nothing could be more heartbreaking than Fred's funeral a week after the battle, but she was mistaken. The following day she attended the joint funerals of Remus and Tonks. Little Teddy Lupin cried throughout the service, wrapped up in his grandmother's arms. They were laid to rest next to Ted Tonks. The earth still hadn't settled. Andromeda had sat stoically, stroking her grandson's hair as he wailed. Ron had held Hermione's hand and stroked her hair as she cried herself to sleep on the Weasley's sofa that night, Ginny and Harry curled up on the oversized armchair. Mrs Weasley didn't even have the heart to tell them to go to their rooms, impropriety be damned.

On the flip side, the charity work, the rebuilding, the press appearances, the presentation of the Order of Merlin and the balls and parties allowed everyone to fully celebrate for the first time in years. The Obliviators had their hands full (even if no formal charges were brought despite the clouds over Bristol remaining bright green for nearly two days) and the healers at St Mungo's took out several full-page ads warning of the dangers of apparating after too many firewhiskeys.

The Auror department, with help from senior Order members, had rounded up most of the remaining Death Eaters. A small number remained at large, including Dolohov, the Lestrange brothers and Theodore Nott Sr. who had fled the country. Posters with their faces detailing their many crimes were quickly covered with bunting and fliers for charity events. Wizarding Britain wanted to move on.

Hermione, with the help of the Australian Ministry for Magic, quickly located Wendell and Monica Wilkins and restored her parents' memories. The reunion had been difficult; Jean and Richard Granger were furious their daughter had gone off to war and sent them on their merry way, but after several hours of shouting, crying and many cups of tea, they'd understood. Harry and Ron waited nervously on the porch of the Wilkins residence in Melbourne, re-casting a silencing spell every hour or so until Hermione had re-emerged in the early hours of the morning and said they could head home. Her parents had understood, and they had forgiven, but they'd also built a life here in Australia and whilst she was secretly hurt, she thought it would be better. After all, they could never truly integrate with her world and she was never going back to living like a muggle so perhaps the distance would make the transition less awkward. She arranged to have their home masked with every protection known to wizarding kind and promised to visit as often as she could get a portkey.

Hermione and Ron had spent the summer at the Burrow. Their relationship had blossomed and they snuck off to be alone as frequently as the many Weasley family members would allow, exploring young love and experiencing many firsts (for Hermione, at least).

But despite the summer reprieve, Hermione still had difficulty with the fact that Ron had abandoned her and Harry during the last year and Ron had difficulty understanding half of what Hermione said. They had struggled on for a couple of months, but they had fought more than they'd enjoyed one another's company and in the end they had agreed they made much better friends than partners and broken it off amicably. Ron struggled with the change at first, and Hermione had packed up to leave but after stern words from Mrs Weasley everyone had agreed it was better they stick together.

Harry and Ginny had picked up exactly where they left off. Mrs Weasley encouraged them wherever possible but had to be calmed down by her husband when Harry had asked for Ginny's name to be added to both the Potter vault at Gringotts and the deed for Grimmauld Place.

Senior Order members had visited the Burrow several times over the summer. McGonagall had shared her and the new Minister's idea to re-do the last year of Hogwarts in its entirety, inviting all the muggleborns who should have been in attendance last year and just having a bumper first year. It was the only way to be sure everyone had a fair chance to get their qualifications. The howlers from parents whose children had attended last year only stopped when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville gave an exclusive interview to Witch Weekly on how they were all going to be attending next year, completing their 7th and final year in its entirety, as well as Ginny, who would be repeating her 6th year. There would be no shortcuts for the Golden Trio and the other young war heroes.

Hermione had been offered the position of Head Girl. Her prefect position was to be offered to Harry in her stead, in a break from the norm, a clear nod from McGonagall for everything he had done. The Head Boy position would be taken by Michael Corner of Ravenclaw who had also confirmed his attendance. Ron grumbled that it should have been either Harry or him, a little too loudly to be polite in McGonagall's presence, but one stern look from Molly Weasley and he quickly let it be, claiming he was just happy it wasn't a Slytherin, earning an eye-roll from Hermione.

So it was, on a sunny morning in August a quartet of letters arrived with the Weasley's copy of the Daily Prophet. Hermione was laying the table for breakfast while Molly busied herself in the kitchen – always the first to rise in the Weasley household, she had quickly tried to make herself as useful as possible. The Order of Merlin may have come with a nice reward for both her and the Weasleys but she was never one to take their hospitality for granted. She thanked the owl at the window with a couple of owl treats as she untied the bundle of post.

Mrs Weasley emerged from the kitchen "Breakfast is nearly ready, everyone up!"

Hermione skipped over to where Mrs Weasley stood at the foot of the stairs and added her voice to the wake-up call "Our Hogwarts letters have arrived!"

Their calls were answered by thunderous shouts and slamming doors. Satisfied that they were at least up, both women smiled at each other as Herimione passed Molly the rolled-up paper and returned to setting the table. Molly took the paper and untied the string, allowing it to spring flat on the table and gasped. The colour drained from her face and she looked over at Hermione with sad eyes.

Hermione crossed the room and looked down.

"MALFOY TRIAL STARTS TOMORROW – Date finally set for trial of Voldemort's second in command and family"

Just beneath the headline, smirking at her from the black and white picture were the faces of the Malfoys and, in an inset to the right, Bellatrix Lestrange. She was laughing maniacally but her eyes never even blinked. Hermione was sure those eyes would follow her anywhere she was in the room.

Hermione was vaguely aware of someone pushing her down into a chair as her breathing became erratic.

"What happened?" Ron demanded as he came bounding down the stairs. Mrs Weasley indicated the paper which still lay on the table. He took one look before marching over to Hermione and kneeling by her chair, pulling her into his arms as he stroked her hair.

"It's ok, it's over. She's gone, she can't hurt you anymore," he whispered. He continued to murmur reassuring words while she concentrated on steadying her breathing. When she could once again breathe normally, she lifted her hands to wipe her face and caught a glimpse of her forearm, making her pause again.

The healers had done everything they could think of. "If you'd sought help sooner we might have been able to counteract the curse in the blade," one particularly stern Mediwitch had told her. She had laughed at that; as if she could have walked into St Mungo's last year. They'd made some suggestions of experimental treatments she could try, or a glamour she could cast daily, but she'd just got up and walked out. At least by this time next year the scar would not be angry and red. She would just have to make sure to wear long sleeves at Hogwarts until then.

Harry, Ginny, George and Arthur had joined them in the kitchen by the time she had calmed down. They'd seen the paper and looked at her with understanding eyes.

"I'm so sorry – I didn't mean to get all flustered like that and ruin breakfast for everyone."

"Nonsense!" Molly countered, as she came sweeping from the kitchen with platters filled high with eggs, bacon, sausages, beans and toast. "I usually have to cast warming charms because the boys didn't get up early enough, there's no harm done."

The platters settled on the table and everyone settled down and tucked in.

"Can you pass the sausages, Gin?"

"Ron – must you check every single piece of toast before selecting one?"

"But I like to make sure I get the least burnt bit!"

"I'm sure I didn't hear you complaining about my cooking, Ronald!"

"What?? No, mum, 'course not!"

The clamour was quickly replaced by the contented silence of people eating. Hermione was glad of the normality. She had been doing so well, but she was sure the nightmare would return tonight. She could always take some Dreamless Sleep, but she was adamant that she wanted to be completely off the draught by the time she went back to Hogwarts and she wasn't about to let something as silly as a picture in the paper set her back.

Once the breakfast dishes had been cleared away, Harry looked pensive. His eyebrows knit together and Ginny had to call him three times to get him to come outside with her. Hermione might not have been on top form but something was bothering him. She kicked Ron under the table.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"What's up with Harry?" she enquired. Maybe they'd discussed something in their room late last night and she hadn't been brought up to speed yet.

"Dunno. You're usually better at that sort of stuff, aren't you?" Ron grumbled as he rubbed his shin.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him outside after Ginny and Harry. They were half-way to the makeshift Quidditch pitch by the time they caught up with them. She shared a couple of looks with Ginny that immediately told her the red-head was in cahoots with whatever was eating him up and that she would have to get it direct from him so they just settled in to a comfortable walking pace beside them. When they reached the pitch, Ginny dragged Ron away to get some brooms from the shed while Hermione and Harry sat on a tree stump.

Ever since the trials had begun several weeks ago he'd known this was coming. It had kept him up for several nights, his conscience warring with the memory of his teenage spat – he was falling asleep over his breakfast before Ginny finally cornered him and demanded that he tell her. She'd listened to his reasoning – Narcissa was the reason he was alive, and Draco had lied about who they were at the Manor – and she'd agreed with every word, and promised to support him when it came to dealing with Ron and Hermione.

"Ok, spill. What's on your mind?"

Harry looked up then. He looked directly into Hermione's eyes and tried to read her. He knew this would be hardest on her but it was the right thing to do. He'd been thinking about how to approach her about it – he knew it would appeal to her sense of right and wrong, and ordinarily Ron would have been the harder one to get on-side, but with her history with the Malfoys and their extended family he had deliberately put off this conversation for weeks. The episode this morning couldn't have come at a worse time. It was now or never.

"Hermione…I've been thinking." He hesitated, then dragged his hand through his messy hair as if the right words might fall from the tangle of black.

"Go on Harry. This morning was….a blip. I've been so much better lately so whatever it is you can tell me."

"I…Ithinkweshouldgiveevidence," he blurted.

Hermione looked at him and blinked. He clearly needed to be more explicit. Taking a deep breath he tried again.

"I think we should give evidence. For the Malfoys."

Now she understood why he'd been so hesitant. Well, that was a relief, this she could do.

"I couldn't agree more, Harry. Lucius might be a nasty piece of work but Narcissa lied to Voldemort for you – I mean, can you imagine how hard it must have been to keep him out of her mind at that point – and Draco was lowering his wand in the Astronomy tower – you said so yourself – and who threatens a 16 year old boy with the murder of his entire family if he doesn't kill one of the most powerful wizards in history? Not to mention that he refused to identify us at the Manor and-"

"Woah Hermione, take a breath!" Harry interjected. They smiled at each other as she did as instructed.

"So you're ok with this? I mean, the Wizengamot might have a lot more friendly faces on it than it did before the war but it's still going to be hard work, they'll want all the details, memory evidence too." Harry looked at his friend as she turned to watch the returning Weasleys with their hands full of brooms.

"I know Harry. I didn't say it would be easy but it's the right thing to do."

"What's the right thing to do?"

Hermione turned to Harry and smiled. A silent understanding passed between them – this wasn't going to be easy. Hermione tipped her head slightly in Ginny's direction and Harry nodded. At least they were all on the same page.

"Hermione and I are going to give evidence at the Malfoy trial tomorrow."

The silence was deafening. Hermione stood slowly as she stared at Ron's face, the red spreading up his neck and face. He was struggling to control himself. The broom fell from his hands as he started making fists, his knuckles white with the strain of it.

"Ron, I-"

"You've got to be joking, right?"

He sounded surprisingly calm. This wasn't a good sign. Explosive Ron they could handle. He was trying to hold back – and that just meant they were delaying the inevitable.

"Hermione, just this morning you were having a panic attack at the sight of her picture and you want to give evidence at a full Wizengamot hearing, where they'll want you to give memory evidence, make you relive the whole thing. Are you mad? You can't do this, it shouldn't be allowed, they don't know what this will cost, they won't be the ones to put you back together, I won't let you-"

"You won't let me?" Hermione knew this wasn't helping matters, her voice had lost all of the conciliatory tone she had started with but as he'd continued to talk she just saw red.

"Who do you think you are? You won't let me give evidence in a trial for people who, however unpleasant they may have been, saved our lives – Harry's on more than one occasion – and ultimately led to Voldemort's downfall? I have news for you, Ronald Weasley, I don't need your permission to do anything and tomorrow morning I will be in the Ministry giving evidence in the hope that they won't sentence the entire family to life in Azkaban!"

"Why? Let them rot there, 'Mione. After what they did – Malfoy deserves everything he gets, the little ferret was always a git. Or would you rather focus on what they didn't do – they just watched while you were tortured on their drawing room floor!"

"Ron, don't you think you're being a little insensitive?" Ginny tried in vain to stop him from going too far. She knew the Weasley temper was just heating up. She dropped her broom and started pulling on his arm and looked pleadingly at her boyfriend. Harry quickly picked up on the signals and, putting an arm around Hermione he tried to turn her around to the house. It was no good, he would never get her out of earshot in time.

"I'll bet Narcissa had the elves put down a big rug, so she never has to tell her pure-blood friends she has mudblood stains on the floor!"

Harry would tell Ginny later (prompting a giggling fit that she had some difficulty controlling) that Hermione's punches had – amazingly – improved since third year.

Before he knew what was happening, Ron was sprawled on the floor nursing a broken nose. The blood spattered on Hermione's knuckles filled in the blank for him. The rage he'd been channelling just moments before seeped from him as he lay there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, staring into the furious, sparkling eyes of his best friend. He felt sick, and the colour drained from his face as she turned around and walked back to the house without saying a word.

"Bloody hell."

"Yeah," muttered Harry. "That about covers it."

By the time Ginny, Harry and Ron made their way back to the house, after a quick spell to fix a broken nose and clear away the blood, Mrs Weasley was stood in the kitchen, hands on hips waiting for them. Ron at least had the sense to look bashful as Ginny and Harry exchanged looks.

"Will someone please explain to me why Hermione just thanked me for my hospitality and started packing her things?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Sometimes Hermione could be just as dramatic as her idiotic brother.

"You stay here and make sure he tells at least some version of the truth!" Ginny was already half way up the stairs by the time she finished.

Ron paled under his mother's gaze. He swallowed hard and stared at the floor, the walls, the ceilings.

"I might have been a bit, well….I was a bit cross, but really, she's overreacting…and I had every right to be cross, really, I mean, I don't know what Harry was thinking bringing up that trial, especially after this morning."

Molly's gaze fell on Harry, who blushed. He would remember to thank Ron later for deflecting some of the blame.

He ran a hand through his hair as he looked from Ron's pleading face to Mrs Weasley's kind but firm stare.

"Hermione and I are going to the trial tomorrow, to give evidence. We think it's the right thing to do," he started. When Mrs Weasley didn't say anything he continued, "I know the Malfoys have been horrible – believe me, I know – but Narcissa lied to save me and Draco is the same age as us, we were just children. I doubt I can say anything to save Lucius – Merlin knows, I can't think of a single reason to – but it would be wrong if we didn't speak up.

"Hermione agrees with me but Ron, um, I mean, we had a slight disagreement about it," he added, looking over at Ron.

Molly observed the two boys – no, men – standing in front of her. Despite both being taller than she was by now, they avoided her gaze as they looked mostly at the floor but occasionally met each other's eyes.

It was difficult for her to bite her tongue when it came to the Malfoys. Narcissa had always been cruel to her and her family, and Lucius' campaign against her husband had been the cause of many a sleepless night of worry. She wasn't at all surprised when their son had turned on hers, and his friends. But Harry had said Hermione agreed with him – it was the right thing to do. The war could so easily have broken these young people, but despite all that they'd been through here they were talking about the right thing to do. She couldn't help it, her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Right. Well. I shan't be overjoyed if you succeed in gaining them any clemency but I'm so very proud of you for thinking it."

Ron slowly raised his head, a confused look scrunching up his face. He was sure he must have misheard.

"Mum, did you hear right? He said the Malfoys. You know, the ones who've had it in for our family for forever. You can't be serious!"

Molly took her son's face in her hands – she used to do it when he was a child, to make sure he was really paying attention.

"Ronald, I would walk over hot coals for my children. That woman lied to Voldemort's face. Even I have to admit that took guts, and should be taken into account. I'm not going to suggest we have them over for Christmas but what we need now is to move on. Too many years of war, too much loss, too much pain. We need peace, forgiveness."

She wiped the tears from her eyes using the bottom of her apron and returned her hands to her hips so as to make clear she meant business.

"So, Ron, Harry, both of you go and get your best shirts, I'll need to iron them if we're to appear at the Wizengamot tomorrow!"


	2. The Malfoy Trial

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

Draco woke in a cold sweat. The nightmares that had plagued him nightly in the aftermath of the battle were now a lot less frequent but time had not dulled them. Visions of giant snakes on the dining table; Fenrir Greyback returning from a successful mission drenched in blood; his aunt cackling, holding her cursed blade in her hand.

A bushy haired know-it-all Gryffindor, writhing and screaming on the drawing room floor.

He got out of bed, cleaned his face and dressed quickly. He knew his mother would be up and at breakfast so he headed down to meet her.

After the battle, the Malfoys sat in The Great Hall with everyone else and drank cups of tea with the victors. They'd offered no resistance when they'd been requested to remain under house arrest until their trial. McGonagall had looked at him with sad eyes as she'd escorted them home and warded their property against them. They'd been powerless to stop her, wandless as they were.

His father had alternated between paralysing fear and uncontrollable rage in the weeks that followed. His mother had taken up residence in the room across the hall from Draco's bedroom and they had kept to themselves in his wing of the mansion. They ate together and in his more lucid, calm moments Lucius joined them. They had been permitted to keep their elves so they didn't starve. He supposed he should be grateful for that, even if his father was not.

As he reached the breakfast room he heard raised voices and slowed to listen to the conversation.

"All I'm saying, Cissy, is that we should plead the Imperius curse again. It worked once, it will work again. You can tell them how I became a different person, Draco can attest to how out of character my actions were and they will acquit us all and once we have our freedom we can go back to the way things-"

"Are you insane, Lucius?" Narcissa interrupted. "Do you still think we have the ear of the Wizengamot? Do you think things will just be like this never happened? You can't lie your way out this time and I will not have you drag us both down with you. Our son is on trial for attempted murder. Our son! You did this to him. You did this to us. You did it of your own free will and I am done with it. I will be pleading today for Draco's life and Draco's life alone. If you were even half as good a father as he thinks you are you would do the same."

Draco heard a door slam and then the quiet sobs of his mother through the door. He entered silently and knelt on the floor at his mother's side.

"Mother," he whispered. "Enough tears. Malfoys don't cry, remember?"

She looked up through tear-stained lashes and smiled weakly at him.

"My dragon, I'm no Malfoy. You know we discussed this. Regardless of what happens today, that man is no longer my husband."

"I know, mother, I understand," he muttered into her hair as he held her. She pushed him away and brushed the tears from her face.

"Nevertheless, your point still stands, and Blacks do not cry either. I will need the elves to cast glamour charms on my eyes at this rate and that simply won't do. I want to look refined but remorseful, and red-rimmed eyes just won't go with that look."

He smiled as his mother regained some of her poise.

"I don't know, mother. Those bleeding heart Gryffindors cry all the time and it seems to work for them." He smirked as he took his seat at the table and helped himself to some toast. He didn't have much of an appetite, but he couldn't risk passing out half-way through the trial. Everyone would be watching for one of them to step out of line, he couldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Remember what I said, Draco. We are in a new world now. The Dark Lord is gone, pureblood society is half decimated and we are on trial. If we get out of this mess we will have a job to drag ourselves back into the light. We were powerful once, we will be so again, but we have to be humble in defeat and we have to learn to live in this new world. Your father lives in a fantasy land where everything will be as it was, but we both know better. Blood isn't what it was anymore, and neither is money." Narcissa paused to check her son was listening carefully, it was crucial he understood. "Honour is the new currency and we are in debt."

It was the same lecture he had heard almost every day of the summer. He had been surprised at first when his mother had explained what had transpired in the forest, but the more he thought about it he realised his mother had been surprisingly quiet on the matter of blood purity since the return of the Dark Lord. He had struggled with the idea of changing everything he knew but once his mother had let slip that the Dark Lord himself was a half-blood with a muggle father he had found it much easier to break down the walls he'd built his entire life. If the most powerful dark wizard of all time was a half-blood and he and his army of purebloods had been defeated by three teenagers; one blood-traitor, one half-blood and one muggleborn, what argument was left? Draco had always prided himself on his logic.

He nodded and thankfully his mother dropped the topic. He didn't have the energy to have this conversation again, especially not today. He needed to conserve his energy for later. Giving testimony under Veritaserum could be very draining, his lawyers had told him.

The aurors arrived at nine o'clock on the dot and accompanied them to the Ministry. They were placed in a single holding cell and waited for the trial to begin. Lucius began pacing and muttering about mudbloods and blood traitors and how they would be sorry once he had his wand back but Draco and his mother sat on the opposite side of the room and ignored him as best they could.

The corridor that led to the courtroom was near black, which made the bright lights as they emerged into the new, family-friendly dock, blinding. Draco suspected this was a clever technique to put the accused on the back-foot; near-blind and causing them to scrunch up their faces, like they were afraid to look you in the eye. He was determined to make a good impression so he shook it off as quickly as possible.

The full Wizengamot was in attendance. There were many faces he didn't recognise, he guessed that the new Minister had filled the old pureblood seats who were now in disgrace with those faithful to the new order. Lucius was living in a fantasy, this room was stacked against them.

They were to be tried together, a family trial, as well as their individual crimes. Their lawyers had made it clear they were to appear humble, repentant, to plead for leniency and claim they had no choice. Lucius had stormed out of the meeting disgusted, ranting about the proper order of things and the respect owed to him and his kin. He sat with his head high, the picture of pureblooded supremacy. Narcissa and Draco sat apart from him, looking straight ahead, trying to school their features into passive looks.

Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the chamber, his purple robes fluttering behind him and took his seat. The new Minister for Magic was a force to be reckoned with, so far most Death Eaters had been tried and found guilty, either sentenced to Azkaban or lengthy house arrest with wand privileges revoked. This was the last of the trials for those taken at the final battle, and the most high profile. He had allowed the press limited access and he knew this had to be perfect.

"I call this court to order. This is docket number 109562, the Wizengamot of Wizarding Britain versus Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, and Draco Lucius Malfoy. The crimes are as follows; Lucius Abraxas Malfoy is accused of being a Death Eater, crimes under the command of Tom Riddle including the use of at least 2 unforgivable curses, the unlawful imprisonment of Garrick Ollivander, Luna Lovegood, the goblin Griphook, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, and assisting in the torture of Hermione Granger.

"Narcissa Malfoy nee Black is accused of assisting her husband, entering an unbreakable vow with Severus Snape to assist her son in the assassination of Albus Dumbledore, the unlawful imprisonment of those witches and wizards already detailed in her husband's case, and assisting in the torture of Hermione Granger.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy is accused of being a Death Eater, crimes under the command of Tom Riddle including the use of the Imperius curse, the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, resulting in the accidental cursing of Katie Bell and the accidental poisoning of Ronald Weasley, aiding Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry resulting in the death of Albus Dumbledore, the unlawful imprisonment of those witches and wizards already detailed in his father's case, and assisting in the torture of Hermione Granger."

There was murmuring in the court once the charges had been read. Draco hung his head in shame. It sounded so much worse when it was all read out like that. At least his mother's list of charges was so much shorter. There was hope she would get away without going to Azkaban.

The legal proceedings droned on, they heard from prosecution witnesses, people they'd wronged. Draco thought it interesting that they couldn't secure testimony from any of the witches or wizards listed as their prisoners. They were painted in a terrible light, every back hander his father had ever orchestrated in Knockturn alley, every dark witch or wizard they'd ever been associated with, every insult Draco had hurled at students in the corridors at Hogwarts had been dredged up. Pages and pages of testimony, backed up with memory evidence that had already been reviewed before they were summoned.

Eventually the prosecution rested, and they were allowed a recess. On their return to the courtroom, Draco couldn't keep his head up any longer and looked at the floor, his hair hanging in his eyes.

"This court is now in order. I understand the defendants are willing to take the stand under Veritaserum, should the court deem that necessary, but first we have some supporting statements to hear."

There was some commotion and the gasps and murmurings of the crowd increased but Draco was already working out how he would survive Azkaban so he didn't look up.

"Please state your name, and proceed with your statement" Kingsley ordered.

"Harry James Potter. I'd like to make a statement in defence of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black and Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco's head snapped up. There, in the witness seat was Potter, in clean robes, his unruly hair as unkempt as ever, pushing his glasses up in a nervous manner. The boy who lived, the saviour of the wizarding world had come to speak at his trial. Could this day get any worse?

Kingsley indicated Harry to proceed.

"I would not be here if it weren't for Narcissa Malfoy. In the forbidden forest, during the final battle, when I confronted Voldemort and he cast the killing curse at me, destroying the horcrux he'd made all those years ago, it was Narcissa who told him I was dead. If she hadn't lied to his face, he would have cursed me again and I wouldn't have stood a chance. She never took the dark mark, despite her husband and sister both being avid supporters of Tom Riddle. As this court has already heard on several occasions, Severus Snape was a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix and undertook the unbreakable vow with Narcissa under Dumbledore's specific instructions. As for the imprisonment, it was Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew who imprisoned us in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor earlier this year. Narcissa was present but not involved."

He paused for the weight of his words to hit home. The courtroom was completely silent.

"In the case of Draco Malfoy, it's true he was a Death Eater, but the time at which he was marked, his father was in Azkaban and had just failed the mission to retrieve the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries so I doubt he had much of a choice, being 16 years old and having Tom Riddle living in his house at the time. I have also provided memory evidence that both Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley do not wish to be included in this case at this time, so their charges should be ignored. The murder of Albus Dumbledore I have already covered. The plan went exactly as Dumbledore expected, with the exception of the Death Eaters in the castle, who did no significant lasting damage to either the property or its inhabitants. Dumbledore was killed by Severus Snape, at his own command. Malfoy – I mean – Draco didn't fire a single curse. And again, I've already mentioned those responsible for our imprisonment at Malfoy Manor earlier this year, Draco was not involved."

Kingsley thanked Harry for his statement and he moved to step down. He had to walk past the dock on his way to his seat and on the way past he nodded to both Draco and Narcissa before taking his seat.

Draco put his head in his hands. The boy who lived had probably saved his mother, but there was still too much against him. He could hear more murmurings in the crowd and his mother nudged him in the ribs. When he looked up his eyes met with brown ones in the witness seat. He groaned inwardly. He was wrong, apparently this day could get worse.

"Please state your name, and proceed with your statement."

"Hermione Jean Granger. I'm here to make a statement on behalf of Draco Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.

"As Harry has already confirmed, neither Narcissa nor Draco were responsible for our imprisonment. I was not present at the Astronomy Tower the night Professor Dumbledore died, nor in the forbidden forest, but I was present at the killing of Nagini, Voldemort's final horcrux, so I can attest to the fact that Harry would have been unable to kill him if Narcissa's rouse had failed at that time. I…I'm here-"

She faltered, her hand went to her left arm. Even though she had glamoured it, the scar was still visible.

"I'm here to talk about my torture at Malfoy Manor earlier this year."

The murmurings of the crowd reached a new high and Kingsley called the court to order again. When the noise had subsided she continued.

"We were captured by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor in March of this year. Before we were caught I hit Harry with a stinging hex which caused his face to swell so he was hard to identify, but his scar remained. The snatchers handed us over to Lucius and Bellatrix because we were suspected of being the so-called golden trio. They asked Draco to identify us. I could tell he recognised us; both Ron and I had no disguise, but he refused to tell his father that he knew it was us. As a result, they were afraid to call Voldemort, in case they were wrong. Lucius and Peter Pettigrew took Harry and Ron to the dungeon while Bellatrix Lestrange kept me behind, because she had discovered the sword of Godric Gryffindor in my possession and she believed I had been into her vault. She-"

Hermione stopped and took a deep breath. Movement across the room caught her eye and she saw as Draco lifted his head to look straight at her. It was only a moment, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly before putting his head in his hands, his palms covering his eyes.

"She tortured me using the Cruciatus curse and she carved my arm using a cursed blade so the wound will never fully heal."

She lifted her arm and removed the glamour. The gallery gasped and Kingsley called them back to order, giving Hermione time to breathe.

"Narcissa and Draco were present in the room but they did not participate or assist Bellatrix. I caught brief glimpses of their faces during my time in the drawing room. They were certainly not willing participants. I don't think they wanted to be there any more than I did."

Her voice was little more than a whisper by the end and the only sound was the quiet scribbling of the quills in the press seating.

"Thank you, Hermione," Kingsley spoke softly, as if to a child. "That will be all."

Hermione stood, but her legs felt like jelly. She made her way back to her seat, passing the dock on the way. Narcissa smiled weakly at her as she passed and Lucius ignored her, but Draco still had his head in his hands, almost doubled over, like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

"The Wizengamot will consider the statements while we have a small break."

The gavel knocked three times and the Malfoys were led back to their holding cell to wait.

They did not have to wait long. When they were called back, there was an excited chatter in the gallery of the court, it seemed the press had doubled in size during the break.

"In light of the statements made by Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger, it is the decision of this court that Narcissa Malfoy nee Black and Draco Lucius Malfoy be acquitted of all charges."

There was a huge explosion of noise from those present. Angry shouts from the gallery echoed in Draco's ears but he barely heard them. He and his mother were acquitted. They were free. There would be no further punishment, no years rotting away in Azkaban. He turned to his mother and saw she was crying for the second time that day. She reached for him and they clung to one another as she sobbed.

Lucius turned to face them both muttering about the impropriety and how Malfoys did not do such things but Draco barely heard him. All he could think of was his mother, sobbing in his arms. They could go home. They were free. Kingsley was trying to wrangle the court back to order.

"There are no further supporting statements. We are now on to the testimony of the accused." Kingsley boomed as the court settled down once more.

"As two of the accused have been acquitted, we are left only with the testimony of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Does the accused wish to take the stand?"

Lucius looked at his wife and son and back at the assembled members of the Wizengamot with his customary sneer.

"I see no reason to explain myself to the likes of you."

Narcissa's sobs were drowned out by the courtroom chatter.

"Silence!" Kingsley ordered. "In that case, with no supporting statements and no testimony to consider, it is the decision of this court that Lucius Abraxas Malfoy is found guilty of all charges. The punishment is life imprisonment at Azkaban prison and the removal of all wand and head of house privileges with immediate effect."

The courtroom erupted into chaos. Cameras flashed, quills were scribbling, and the shouts from the gallery nearly drowned out Lucius' shouts about blood traitors, mudbloods and their lack of respect as he was dragged from the room.

Kingsley drew the proceedings to a close and dismissed the court. The chamber emptied slowly as Draco held his mother, until the quiet sobs were all that was left.


	3. Meetings at the Ministry

_**Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.**_

Molly hugged Harry and Hermione as they came out of the court.

"I'm so proud of you both," she fussed. Ron and Ginny pushed forward to hug them as well. The press were far enough away that their shouted questions were just noise and they knew they couldn't get a good picture. Short of being in an Order house, this was as close as they could get to privacy.

"Minerva wanted a word with you before we left, I said we'd meet her here, I hope that's ok."

McGonagall swept around the corner, ignoring the press and the clamour. Dressed in dark green and black tartan robes, she looked every inch the headmistress as she approached the group.

"How can we help you Headmistress?" Hermione asked, once pleasantries had been exchanged.

"Hogwarts business, I'm afraid, Miss Granger," the older witch sighed. "I know you've agreed to come back and I'm very grateful."

"Our letters arrived yesterday - I can't tell you how thrilled I am to be head girl, professor," Hermione gushed. Ron rolled his eyes and earned a swift elbow from his mother.

"Yes, well, I wanted to discuss the other students who will also be returning for their final year. More specifically those from Slytherin house."

The older witch watched as the four young faces in front of her changed as their owners processed that information. Harry simply looked at Ginny and shared a knowing look, as he reached for her hand. Hermione's mouth made a surprised 'o' as she thought for a moment, before a glorious smile erupted on her face and she beamed at her mentor.

Ron was not quite so understanding. His face was bright red by the time he summoned the courage to speak.

"You can't be serious!" he bellowed.

Molly elbowed her youngest son once again.

"Ronald, quiet now! Listen to what Minerva has to say before you reply, please."

The colour draining from Ron's neck and face was reply enough.

"Thank you, Molly. As I was saying, there are several Slytherin students who have expressed a desire to return, some of whom have parents now in Azkaban. I trust you three - well, four including you Miss Weasley - will not be so foolish as to associate the sins of the fathers with your classmates."

A stern look followed, and Ginny had to control her giggles as her brother's face grew red once more. Harry squeezed her hand before replying for the group.

"Of course, professor. They were kids, just like us, and it's not like most of them fought with Voldemort." He nervously adjusted his glasses before continuing. "But what about the ones who did support him? Parkinson, Goyle and Malfoy?"

McGonagall's eyes shone. Although they were only children, it was clear the young people in front of her had matured so much over the past couple of years. Gone was the angry boy who had cursed another in a bathroom in a fit of rage and instead a measured young man with intelligent questions filled his shoes. She could not have been prouder if they had been her own children.

"An excellent question, Mr Potter. Mr Goyle has indicated that he would like to continue with his studies as he is now head of his house and his mother is concerned he will need all the help he can get. Miss Parkinson replied to my owl with a terse response but nevertheless says she wishes to return to the school and bury the past."

The older witch paused and looked at the young adults gathered before her, judging whether they were ready.

"And I have yet to speak with Mister Malfoy, as he has been under house arrest. I was intending to offer him a place if he would like it, but I wanted to check with you first. I know you spoke on his behalf as well as Narcissa's but I wanted to ask if you thought there was any reason I should not," the older witch paused, her eyes narrowing. "Perhaps something you did not share in his trial?"

Hermione thought Ron was about to explode, he was now an impressive shade of purple. Looking to Harry and Ginny, who both nodded their support, she stepped forward in an attempt to avoid an incident this close to the press.

"Professor, if I may. Our testimony today was the truth - we didn't exaggerate or lie, or omit anything. Draco Malfoy was just a child caught up in this fight, the same as us. He was simply caught up on the other side of it. I think yours an excellent suggestion. After all, everyone should have the opportunity to finish their schooling."

Minerva smiled at her brightest student and grasped her shoulder.

"Miss Granger, I had no doubt you would be the voice of compassion. I shall speak to him about returning to school then. I'll have to select another prefect, of course-"

"If I may, professor, why must you?" Hermione interjected. "I mean, Death Eater or no, Malfoy was actually a decent prefect despite everything, and there's no denying he's a competent wizard. He would be good for patrols and helping the younger ones if he can be persuaded to focus on the right things."

Molly and the older witch shared a look and the flame-haired matriarch had tears in her eyes when she nodded her head slightly. When Ron made a move to object vehemently, Molly pulled him away from the conversation to have stern words.

"Very well, Miss Granger, those are good points and I'll see how he is when I speak to him," McGonagall sighed. "He'd never admit it but he is a very lucky individual to have you two arguing his case. I suspect it would be wise not to hold out for his gratitude though; the Malfoys are a proud bunch. I look forward to seeing you in September."

In a swirl of tartan the Headmistress retreated back to the courtroom and Harry, Ginny and Hermione were left alone in the corridor. Ron was still being scolded, albeit quietly, by Molly so the three stood awkwardly to one side until she was finished. Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and leaned in to whisper to her.

"That was a really good thing you did, Mione. He doesn't deserve it but I almost hope McGonagall is wrong about him not being grateful, we could all use a second chance now and then."

She tilted her head to her youngest brother and wiggled her eyebrows at her friend. Hermione just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Oh Gin, I think we both know we'd be much better off as friends."

Ginny sighed, it's not like she was rooting for her brother over her friend, but when the war had ended she had this vision of them all being family and now it seemed like it wasn't to be, she couldn't help but mourn what could have been.

"I know, I just thought it would be nice to have you as a sister."

Hermione swatted her friend on the arm and pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug.

"You'll always be a sister to me, Ginny, don't be daft. I hope I don't have to marry your idiot brother for you to think of me in the same way."

Harry watched as the two girls - no, women - he loved more than anything in the world hugged and smiled. Ron sidled up beside him, his face a little less red and his demeanour thoroughly chastised.

"Well done for today, mate. He doesn't deserve it, but it just goes to show how much better you are, doesn't it?" He muttered to Harry.

"And you, of course, Mione. But no such thing as a lost cause for you, is there? Hermione Granger for Minister for Magic!" Ron ducked Hermione's slap as they collapsed in giggles and moved to follow Molly to the atrium.

* * *

A gentle tap on the shoulder roused Draco and he looked up into the stern face of Professor McGonagall. She pursed her lips and waited for Narcissa to compose herself.

"Narcissa, Mr Malfoy."

"Minerva." Narcissa pulled herself together and straightened her robes. Draco produced a handkerchief and she dried her eyes addressing the woman before her. "I assumed we would still have business to attend to, it wouldn't be as simple as just walking away."

"I'm sure Kingsley will contact you in due course for your contribution to the restitution fund and your paperwork and so on, but he assures me, I can accompany you home without any further ado."

The witch extended her left hand, and they both grabbed hold whilst she whirled them around and the familiar but uncomfortable sensation of side-along apparition engulfed them. They found themselves standing in the main reception of Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa recovered herself quickly and called a house elf to prepare some tea for them in the sitting room and led the way.

The silence was deafening as they waited for the tea to be poured. After taking a sip of her cup, Minerva McGonagall set it down and waited until she had the attention of both Malfoys.

"I can imagine today has been quite trying enough. As I said, Kingsley will send someone to speak with you in a day or two to discuss monetary matters, visiting rights and the likes. I'm just here as a familiar face to discuss next steps," she turned to Draco and narrowed her eyes slightly. "Especially for you, Mister Malfoy."

Narcissa watched the older witch, willing to step in at a moment's notice to defend her son, but his hand on her arm stayed her ire.

"Professor - Headmistress," he corrected. "I don't suppose there's any coming back from where I am right now. If there's anything I can do to help with the repairs of the school, although I can understand if you'd like any donations to remain anonymous."

The older witch sipped her tea while she let the silence drag on after his question. Minerva McGonagall was a shrewd judge of character and she wanted to give time for the Malfoys to show any flicker. She had always admired the Slytherin, pureblood way of keeping everything close to one's chest - it wasn't what she would choose but it had to be admired nonetheless - but she saw none of that now, every emotion, albeit subtly, played out on their faces. Pride and a little anger, yes, shame and remorse too, but mostly they looked tired.

"Mister Malfoy, that won't be necessary. The repairs for the school will be taken from the pool of funds collected from various sources, reparations being just one," she placed her teacup carefully back down. "No, I'm here to talk about whether or not you wish to return to Hogwarts to complete your education."

Narcissa whimpered to his left. It was a thoroughly undignified sound and one he was sure she had never made in company before. He gave her clasped hands a brief squeeze before replying.

"It would cause you a lot of trouble. I'm not sure you know what you're offering me."

His voice was steady but quiet. He was just glad he'd managed to keep the wavering to a minimum.

McGonagall drew herself up to sit even straighter in her chair, if it were possible.

"Mister Malfoy, I assure you, I have thought long and hard about your case, but there's one factor that I simply cannot ignore; Albus had faith in you, and Severus did what was necessary to save you from a terrible fate. It would be remiss of me to disregard your future when they sacrificed so much for it."

Draco felt as if he would combust under her gaze, the colour rising to his pale cheeks.

"As to the trouble I will be in, I would be more concerned about your own trouble, Mister Malfoy. I have quite enough on my plate and I cannot be chasing you around the castle breaking up schoolyard fights and childish rivalries. I expect you to make efforts to show your classmates - and, indeed, the wizarding world in general - the mature young man I believe you can be." Her eyes narrowed again. "I am a very good judge of character, Mister Malfoy. I am putting my faith in you, I hope you realise that. I don't wish to be disappointed, so should you abuse that faith I shan't hesitate to expel you, and very publicly I should add!"

Draco swallowed hard. This was more than he had hoped for, and it was certainly the sort of thing he and his mother had discussed at length whilst awaiting their trial. He needed to rebuild the Malfoy name. His mother had made it clear, she had thrown her lot in with his fa- Lucius, he reminded himself - but he was young and the burden of rehabilitation would fall heavily on his shoulders. He squeezed his mother's hand again, for courage.

"Thank you, professor. That's more than I could have hoped for," he began, shakily. "I'll do my best. I-"

Draco paused, he wasn't sure how much of himself he was willing to sacrifice on the altar of Gryffindor public opinion but his old Transfiguration professor was so shrewd he secretly suspected her hat stall had been about more than just Gryffindor and Ravenclaw so it seemed foolish to lie or disguise anything now. He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"Professor, I know now that I made the wrong decision. He said that to me, you know, Dumbledore. He said he knew a boy who made all the wrong choices, and I knew he was right and I made them anyway. But that doesn't mean I'm completely reformed. My pride is battered and bruised but intact. You can threaten me with expulsion, certainly, but can you honestly tell me I won't be hexed in the corridors? I'm not perfect, what happens if I snap back after one too many jinxes to the back?"

The older witch's eyes glistened and he was reminded of the former headmaster so strongly, he had to fight to keep his eyes from dropping in shame. Perhaps the eye twinkle came with the job?

"I trust my prefects to take care of that, I expect each and every one of you to set a good example for the younger years in the way you interact and treat one another."

"I'm sorry, professor," Draco interjected, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "Did you say each and every one of us?"

"Yes, Mister Malfoy. You are, are you not, one of my most senior prefects?"

Draco's eyes widened fractionally, but it was enough of a tell for the headmistress to see.

"You should know I was persuaded by one of your classmates. You could have some very powerful allies, Mister Malfoy, if only you would allow them to help you."

She stood and straightened her robes, smoothing imperceptible creases from the tartan. Draco stood automatically, his manners not yet forgotten.

"Narcissa, thank you for the tea but I must be going. I will remove all the enchantments on your house as I leave, your floo will be open so you can go about your business. I imagine you'll be wanting a new wand. I've already spoken with Garrick, he'll be expecting you in due course."

With a final swish of robes she left the two Malfoys in stunned silence.


	4. An eventful shopping trip

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

Molly Weasley watched as her two youngest walked arm-in-arm with their closest friends along Diagon Alley. The shops had mostly reopened, although some remained boarded, a painful reminder of the war, but now covered with posters for the latest broom or a new anti-ageing product for her to ignore.

There were the usual people stopping and staring, but after signing a few autographs in the Leaky Cauldron and then a few more when they arrived in the alley, Molly had ushered them along, announcing loudly that school supplies didn't buy themselves and they'd been left pretty well alone since then. Although, they did always seem to skip any queues and get served by the proprietors of any shop, but she supposed a few perks were to be expected. She saw it as her job to make sure the fame didn't go to their heads and so far they had all behaved admirably, she thought, motherly.

"Mione we need to get you some new robes - you lost weight on the run and you could do with splashing out on something snazzy for that new figure," Ginny mused as they walked past Madam Malkins. Hermione simply scoffed and abandoned Ron in favour of dragging her friend off towards the bookshop.

"Books and school supplies first, Gin, then maybe I'll let you torture me with clothes shopping while the boys drool over the latest broom."

Ginny frowned.

"Don't see why those two are mutually exclusive," she grumbled.

"What you on about, Gin?" yelled Ron as he and Harry slowly gravitated towards the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Boys!" Mrs Weasley yelled after them, as the girls erupted into giggles. It was such a normal, happy day that they didn't realise anything was amiss until Ginny got pushed aside by someone yelling.

"Oi! Watch where you're going, Mister!" the redhead yelled as Hermione righted her, but her assailant didn't even notice her; he was focused on a gathering crowd outside Ollivander's newly reopened shop. The five started moving towards the commotion, Molly keeping a close eye on the four youngsters in her care. The war might be over but those instincts weren't going anywhere soon.

"Death Eater scum!"

"Buy your freedom, did you?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron shared a glance and pushed through the throng to reach the front. Molly grabbed her children and held them back but Harry and Hermione were too quick and she didn't have enough hands. There were gasps from the crowd when they realised who had arrived.

Harry reached the front first, the crowd finally thinning to reveal Draco and Narcissa Malfoy standing outside Ollivander's shop. He surveyed the situation before him carefully. He might not have liked the Malfoys but since his discussion with Ginny several weeks previously, he knew he wanted to give them a second chance, if they wanted to take it.

Draco stood in front of his mother, his hand on his pocket in a gesture Harry recognised all too well. His mother looked around her at the gathering crowd as if she were bored, but both Harry and Hermione suspected she was just keeping her cards close to her chest and was really surveying her surroundings with keen interest. Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded once, almost imperceptibly. They didn't need to communicate anymore, months of being on the run had them attuned to one another.

Harry pocketed his wand as Hermione gripped hers tighter, as a precaution. He stepped towards the pair, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

"Malfoy."

Draco focused on the man in front of him only long enough to assess whether he was an immediate threat before his eyes began darting around the crowd again.

"Potter."

Harry nodded at the greeting, reminded of his first meeting with Buckbeak, with no small amount of amusement.

"Mrs Malfoy," he began hesitantly, and cleared his throat before beginning again, somewhat louder. "Mrs Malfoy, I'm glad I've found you, I was hoping to speak to you."

He fussed his hair again, and caught Hermione's eye for courage. The Weasleys had gathered behind her and she was holding onto Ron's wrist but Harry noticed he didn't seem to be so angry, sensing the delicate situation the angry mob provided.

"I wanted to thank you, for what happened in the forest," Harry continued, somewhat louder than normal speech, but making sure to enunciate every word so the now-silent crowd could hear. "If you hadn't lied to Voldemort for me, I would never have defeated him. We all owe you an immense debt of gratitude."

He stuck out his hand toward the impassive witch in front of him.

Narcissa thought he had the subtlety of a brick, and it was clear he was no tactical mastermind, but the gesture was more than she had hoped for. She took his hand and shook it slowly.

"It was what any mother would have done, Mister Potter. I owe you more than a debt of gratitude for ridding us of that monster before it was too late."

Draco was busy scanning the surrounding crowd for any continued threat. Although their stunned silence had descended into hushed whispers at Potter's revelations, he still felt exposed and worried for his and his mother's safety. He was so distracted he barely noticed the hand in front of him, until his eyes swung back to his mother.

Harry stood in front of Malfoy, hand outstretched and cleared his throat again.

"You once offered me your hand in friendship, and I turned you down. I'm not going to say I was wrong, I did it for all the right reasons, and I think you know that, but I thought it was about time I made up for that."

Draco was truly stunned. He looked at his mother, whose eyes were shining so very slightly, he thought he might have imagined it.

He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it deliberately. There was a definite smirk in the smile of the bespectacled man in front of him and he found his lip curl into a glimmer of a smirk in return.

"Thanks, Potter. I understand and I'd like to think a lot has changed and that boy doesn't exist any more," he confessed, catching his mother's eye. "I'm looking forward to trying to make the most of my final year at school, clean slate and all that."

The crowd began to murmur again, and Narcissa sensed their quiet could only be bought for a few moments, the adults who had lived through one or two wars were not so keen to forgive a marked Death Eater, no matter how young. She cleared her throat and stepped past the two young men before her.

"Miss Granger, I wondered if I might have a moment of your time."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the older witch before her, her fingers still tight around the handle of her wand. Nothing seemed to phase the woman, it was a miracle really. She looked immaculate in expensive robes, like being surrounded by an angry mob whilst out shopping was part of a normal routine for her. Perhaps this was nothing compared to the horrors she'd witnessed last year - a disturbing thought in itself.

"Mrs Malfoy," she acknowledged, cautiously.

"I was hoping for a more private audience, but I doubt we shall have the opportunity", Narcissa continued, sparing a single look down her nose at the still whispering crowds. "I wished to apologise for what happened - for what I allowed to happen - under my own roof earlier this year."

Hermione's eyes glazed over slightly and her hand went to her left arm automatically. Ron shifted beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder protectively, but Hermione was glad he didn't do anything more obvious.

"My sister-" Narcissa added, and Molly stiffened at Hermione's side. "My sister was not a well woman. In some ways she died in Azkaban.

"I can understand if you don't wish to accept my apology but I offer it regardless," Narcissa finished, curtly.

Hermione hesitated, her eyes flicked from the pristine witch in front of her to the two boys behind her, one awkward and obviously worried for her, the other impassive, to the arm casually draped over her shoulder and the flame haired women to her side. She didn't know what to say. She didn't feel like a public apology was sufficient, but at the same time it was more - much more - than she'd expected from the Malfoys. But accepting the apology meant dredging up feelings and thoughts she was trying very hard to bury, and she was likely to have a repeat of her nightmares tonight as a result.

Having stood motionless for a fraction too long, Ron took it upon himself to start to turn her away.

"Alright, everyone can disperse now, we need some space here, don't you think!" He yelled as he pulled the seemingly comatose witch into his arms to shield her from prying eyes. The crowd started to move away slowly, some stragglers still hoping to get something gossip-worthy from the encounter.

Narcissa turned to her son and his unlikely ally again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any-"

"I accept," Hermione blurted, slightly muffled by Ron's arms, from which she promptly freed herself. She strode to the older woman and stuck out her hand.

"I accept your apology, Mrs Malfoy. I meant what I said in court, it was clear for both of you, you didn't want to be there any more than I did. I accept your apology, and no lasting harm done, not really."

Narcissa took her hand and shook it delicately. She made a note never to underestimate the young woman in front of her, she had hidden strengths even Narcissa had to admire. She watched as three red heads enveloped the young woman in the circles of their arms. A flimsy notion, she thought, a cocoon to protect her, but there was no protection from memory.

She had always despised the Weasleys. They were blood traitors, associating with mud- muggleborns, she corrected, mentally - and the other enemies of blood supremacy. Her husband had tried several times to get Arthur Weasley fired, or arrested, unsuccessfully. But no matter what befell them they always seemed to keep smiling, keep going. With all the rethinking she'd done over the summer, and with Lucius behind bars, she saw no reason to continue a ridiculous feud, particularly one she didn't believe in. Besides, this woman was a friend of her last remaining sister; she had nothing to lose.

"Molly," she began, but too softly to be heard clearly by the retreating group, she cleared her throat to begin again.

"Molly."

The group stopped in their tracks and looked at the Malfoy matriarch. She still had that haughty look but she had definitely just said Mrs Weasley's name.

"Narcissa," Molly replied with a clipped tone.

"I wanted to offer you my condolences," Narcissa continued. "I thought I had lost Draco in the final battle and when young Mr Potter here told me he was still alive in the castle the relief I felt, well, what I mean is, to lose a child is an awful thing and I'm so terribly sorry."

Molly had tears in her eyes before she'd even finished. Ron stepped up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Narcissa. That's much appreciated."

Narcissa extended her thin hand toward the older witch and, after a moment of shock, she shook her hand and the two parted.

Draco watched this with a lump in his throat. He knew his mother was politically minded and in the new order if she wasn't going to be ostracised completely she would have to mend bridges his father had all but destroyed over the last few years but he hadn't expected it to be quite so heartfelt. He knew his mother liked to keep everything close to her chest, like a good pureblood, but that was definitely a genuine display of emotion. She must be doing it for more than just politics.

He surveyed the rest of the group; Potter, Granger and Weaselette. He was surrounded by Gryffindors. He supposed it was better than being surrounded by Death Eaters. His perspective had changed a lot in the past year.

"Draco, I find I'm quite tired of shopping, I should like to head home."

Draco understood the instruction in her words and nodded. He turned again to Potter as the others broke away.

"Potter," he began, unsure if the display of friendship was just for the masses.

The black haired boy adjusted his glasses and smiled, sticking his hand out again.

"Malfoy, I hope you meant what you said about starting over, last year of school and all that."

Draco smirked at the man in front of him and shook his hand firmly, not wanting to show his surprise at being treated so cordially.

"Of course - I suppose I should thank you for putting in a good word with McGonagall for me-"

"That was Hermione, actually," Harry said, watching for any flicker of reaction on the face of his childhood nemesis.

"Interesting," Draco mumbled, "I must make a note to thank her next time I see her, assuming she'll let me speak, of course."

That surprised a laugh out of his adversary - former adversary.

Draco thought although it hadn't been subtle, it was a hell of a lifeline he'd just thrown him and his mother, and he wasn't about to overlook it. That evening the events of the day and the words of his mother from the morning of the trial ran around his head, keeping him awake until he was forced to get up and go for a run to calm his mind.

As head of the House of Malfoy it was up to him to redeem their name, and if The Boy Who Lived was going to give him a lifeline, he was going to have to swallow his pride and take it with both hands. The Malfoy name might not have been the most honest in the past, but if that was the new currency Draco intended to be rich in it, by any means.


	5. The way back to school

_**Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.**_

Platform 9 ¾ was busy and noisy as per usual, but the chatter all but stopped at the apparition crack of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and the Weasleys. Harry ran his hand through his hair as people stared and the stunned silence continued awkwardly.

Neville looked up when the crowd became still and saw his housemates at the far end of the platform, everyone around them stunned into silence. He always thought the people who stared at Harry were rude, but this was unbearable.

"Harry! Ron, Hermione! Over here!" He yelled as he pushed his way through the crowds. "We're thinking of sitting at the front so we're close to the Prefects carriage for Hermione, hope that's ok."

Hermione smiled and gave him a massive hug as he reached them.

"Thanks Neville, that was very thoughtful."

At the sound of the banal conversation (even if it was the Golden Trio talking!) the platform returned to normal and the chatter returned, with only the occasional pointing and whispering as the group made their way, trunks in tow, to the front of the train.

No sooner had they got the trunks stowed than the platform stilled for a second time. They looked over, Ron and Neville having the best view of the far end of the platform where the apparition point was.

"What's going on?" Mrs Weasley asked.

Ron screwed up his nose.

"It's Malfoy."

Mr and Mrs Weasley made eye contact and started to make their way to the far end of the platform, their children in tow. After hearing about the incident in Diagon Alley Kingsley had asked them to keep an eye on the situation, he couldn't afford to spare an Auror, and besides, it would look like Ministry protection for a former Death Eater and, politically minded as he was, even he couldn't spin that one. The press would have a field day.

Molly reached the front of the crowd first, just as the whispers began.

"Death Eater scum."

"Shouldn't be allowed - he should be locked up!"

"She had you-know-who as a houseguest and here she is walking round like she owns the place still!"

"Can't believe they're letting him back in the school - if my child were in Slytherin I'd never let them come back with him sleeping down the corridor."

Molly stepped forward, hand on her wand in her pocket in case it was needed. Narcissa still had the same look of someone with an unpleasant smell under her nose. Molly briefly thought she could have toned it down a bit, with a husband in Azkaban and a son with the dark mark, she could look humble, relieved, anything really, except her usual haughty self, but apparently that would be too much to ask for.

The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione were now basically stood between the crowd and Draco and Narcissa.

Narcissa had known it was going to be bad, she'd known it from that day in Diagon Alley when Harry had stepped in before things had turned nasty but she hadn't expected the fear and loathing she saw in the faces of children - children! - all directed at her son.

It was then that Molly decided to throw the second lifeline the Malfoys had received since their trial.

"Narcissa," Molly began, extending a hand toward the immaculately dressed woman in front of her. "So good to see you again. Did you manage to get everything you needed in Diagon Alley the other day?"

Even with the noise of the train and the muggle station around them the silence of the crowd was deafening.

"Why yes, Molly," Narcissa countered, grateful for the intervention and reminding herself to write to the woman on her return to the manor. She was reminded suddenly that this woman had also grown up in one of the most respected pureblood families, so she knew a thing or two about etiquette and manners. Narcissa moved forward to take the woman's hand. "Draco had a few items delivered from his school list but the most important thing was getting our new wands. But thank you so much for thinking of us."

"What you lookin' at?" Ron questioned to nobody in particular. "Come on, move along you lot, train to catch, sweets to buy, toads to lose, get on with it!"

The crowd began to move away and the chatter returned as the scene before them proved to be more banal than they'd hoped.

Draco turned from the parents who were now standing side-by-side awkwardly.

"Potter, Weasley, Granger," he paused, taking in Ginny, gripping Harry's hand tightly. "Weaselette."

He nodded to the 4 of them, before kissing his mother on the cheek and walked off, trunk in tow. Two steps later, he heard someone walking briskly to catch up with him.

"Don't forget your owl!"

Draco turned to see Hermione Granger holding the cage of his Eagle Owl. It was a bit too big for her to carry, he wasn't sure why she didn't just levitate it, but then he'd noticed she did a lot of things the muggle way. Noticed it and mocked her for it, over the years.

He noticed that shame was not the most comfortable of feelings, and wondered if being rich in honesty would also mean being rich in shame and if so perhaps he might like the life of a pauper. He sighed, knowing he was kidding himself, resigning himself to the reality that his trip to Diagon had foisted upon him.

"I hadn't forgotten him, Granger. I was merely going to collect him from my mother last, once my trunk was settled. He doesn't like to move too many times and I suspect I may struggle to find a compartment this year."

"Won't you sit with the other returning Slytherins?"

He looked at his shoes and shuffled his feet, as her eyes went wide with realisation.

"Oh. Well, you're still a prefect so you're welcome to use the prefect compartment. We only have a short meeting in it and then it's usually free. I can carry your trunk if you'd like to take your owl instead?"

Draco looked up at the witch in front of him. Over her shoulder he could see Potter and Weasley watching them, Weasley had a bright red face and a look that could sour milk, but girl Weasley was pulling on his sleeve so he suspected he wasn't a threat right now. He surveyed her face for any sign of trickery, like a desire to make his trunk disappear so he had no clothes when he arrived at Hogwarts, or putting him in a compartment full of people who wanted him dead but there was nothing. She was being genuine. It was so refreshing he almost laughed in her face.

He set his trunk down with a flick of his wand and held out his hand for the cage.

"Is that Malfoy for 'Yes please, Hermione, and thank you. Oh and thank you Head Girl for the offer to use the prefect's compartment'?"

His eyes bulged, so briefly she almost missed it before he schooled his features into his customary smirk again and raised an eyebrow.

He was working out which of the half a dozen or so excellent retorts to use when he caught sight of his mother over the top of the bushy head of hair in front of him. She was looking more fragile than he had seen her in a long time, surrounded by people who until recently would have been classed as mortal enemies, but today were the only people who had shown her anything approaching kindness. He'd been brought up to think kindness was a weakness, for Gryffindors, muggles and idiots alike, but he'd seen what a complete lack of compassion looked like and he didn't think he wanted to see it again. Besides wasn't it love that had defeated old snake face after all? Maybe, just maybe, a little kindness wouldn't kill him. After all, his mother had told him to just be the best person he could be. He sighed again.

"You're right, that was rude, I apologise. Congratulations on getting Head Girl. Not that it was ever in doubt."

He continued to stand there with his hand out while she stood, open mouthed and stared at him. He could see Potter physically restraining the Weasel now, if she continued to look offended he would be in for a nasty hex or a black eye any minute now.

"My governess always told me I'd catch flies with a face like that." She looked at him quizzically and he pointed at her still open mouth, so she promptly slammed it shut and blushed furiously.

"I think your boyfriend is itching to defend your honour, Granger, so please accept my apology so we can get on the train and I can avoid a black eye."

He took the cage from her and proceeded to gesture over her shoulder with a tip of his head. She groaned audibly when she caught sight of Ron.

"That would be ex-boyfriend," she grumbled. "Thank Merlin Harry and Ginny are there."

She waved them away, Ginny and Harry dragging a very reluctant Ron onto the train. Draco was surprised at her correction, but then she wasn't a Slytherin and thought nothing of sharing personal details with people. He just stored that piece of information in case it came in handy again later.

She flicked her wand at the now abandoned trunk and followed after the tall blond as fast as she could with the crowds on the platform. His legs were significantly longer than hers so it took him no time at all to make his way, cage in hand, to the front of the train, where he stood, waiting, holding the carriage door open for her.

She helped him settle in and moved to leave, but a small cough stopped her in the door of the carriage.

"Thank you, Granger."

He looked so uncomfortable, as tempting as it was to toy with him she just didn't have the heart.

"It was just a trunk, Malfoy, it's hardly a huge achievement."

He looked at her with such vulnerability then, she almost wanted to hug him - almost. He shook his head and smiled a small smile.

"Not for that. Well, thank you for that as well, I just meant for everything. Thank you for defeating You-Know-Who. Thank you for putting in a good word for me with McGonagall", he raised a hand to stop her predictable interruption. "And before you say anything, Potter told me. Thank you for the other day in Diagon Alley when you accepted my mother's apology. You have no idea how much that meant to her."

She stood dumbstruck. He looked at her like he was willing her to say something. She gathered all her strength and cleared her throat.

"You're welcome, both of you."

When he moved to say something more, she opened the compartment door and plastered on a big smile.

"We'll have the prefects meeting in about an hour. I'll try and get here early so you're not here with anyone who might not understand. Last thing we want is a misunderstanding on day one, right?" she said, laughing just a little too brightly to be genuine. "Bye Malfoy!"

She practically ran from him all the way to her friends in the next carriage.

"Well, mother," he mumbled to himself as he located his robes, "I try to be nice and people run from my presence, but I suppose it didn't kill me so that's a plus."

* * *

When Hermione made it back to the compartment with her friends she must have looked flustered because no sooner had she shut the door, Ron was stood in front of her, gripping her shoulders almost trying to steady her.

"What did he do? Tell me, what did he say that upset you so much? We'll get him back whatever it is, won't we Harry?"

Harry caught the warning looks Ginny and Hermione were giving him and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Well, hold up mate, let's find out what happened first - if anything did happen, eh? I mean, when I spoke to him, he was keen to make a fresh start, can't imagine he'd want to ruin that before he even got to school."

Hermione mouthed her thanks to him while Ron stared at him incredulously.

"Quite right, Harry. As it happens he was perfectly polite. Even thanked me for my help, and congratulated me on getting head girl."

"He congratulated you? Blimey, he really has changed his tune!" Ginny added as she pulled her brother back to his seat. Neville had gone in search of Hannah Abbott and Dean was chasing whatever girl would give him the time of day so the four of them were left in the compartment alone.

"We should probably talk about McGonagall's plans before the prefects meeting. We'll need to make sure at least some of them are on board with the plan."

"Which plan?" Ron mumbled between mouthfuls of his sandwiches.

"Honestly, Ronald, the house unity plan. The fact that the tables in the great hall won't be house tables any more and all classes will be mixed, with mixed-house partners where possible. And aren't those sandwiches for your lunch? We've only just left King's Cross!"

Ron blushed as Hermione finished her tirade, but continued to eat the sandwich. He had galleons to spare following the war, he could afford something from the trolley for lunch for once. He was a growing lad, he needed his strength.

They agreed the best way was to be the ones to initiate the integration at the tables by each sitting at a different table. That was the easy bit. Deciding who was to sit at which table was where the arguments began.

"Well, obviously, I should be the one to sit at the Slytherin table," Ron announced. "Much as I don't want to and they'll probably try to hex me, or ignore or insult me, I'm the obvious choice."

"Oh really, Ronald. Please enlighten us why you're the obvious choice."

Hermione could not wait to hear this one. Ron sat up straighter to deliver what he considered to be his knock-out logic.

"Well, I'm pureblood, so they can't all hate me. Plus, Ginny and Harry will want to sit together so they should probably have a less hostile table for that and you, Hermione, well, you're, you know, not their particular favourite, er, I mean, you don't meet their, well, exacting requirements."

"You mean I shouldn't sit there because I'm a muggleborn?"

Hermione's icy tone was a clear enough signal of the danger he was walking into. Ron looked to Harry for help but he held his hands up in a gesture that clearly indicated he was on his own in this one.

"Well, yeah, if you have to be so blunt about it."

"That's exactly the reason why I think it should be me."

Ron's eyes bulged out of his head and he spluttered for a moment trying to form words to disagree.

"No, I mean, well, you can't, can you? Malfoy's already been an arse to you today, and besides, you can't go into the snake's territory, they'll eat you alive, conniving lot will probably try to poison your pumpkin juice, won't they? It's just not safe. Much better my way."

The only sound in the compartment was Ginny's palm hitting her forehead. Her brother was hopeless.

Before Hermione had a chance to respond Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder to push him back into his seat.

"Ron, mate, I agree with Hermione on this one. We need to challenge the blood status thing head-on. Besides, Malfoy was fine today, nice even, which is a bit weird, but I don't think it's going to encourage house unity if you keep calling them conniving snakes."

Hermione stood and grabbed her robes from the luggage rack.

"Well, now that's decided, I'll leave you to decide who sits on Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables while I get into my robes. I'll see you both at the prefect meeting in half an hour."

The prefect meeting went remarkably well, Hermione was pleasantly surprised with how well everyone reacted when they arrived to see Hermione Granger, head girl, Gryffindor princess and one third of the golden trio having a conversation with Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and former Death Eater, about whether or not the quidditch World Cup would return to England in their lifetime, given the political situation.

Hermione filled everyone in on the plan and encouraged anyone with friends in other houses to feel free to sit with them once the headmistress had made her announcement. There was a bit of grumbling, especially from the Slytherin students but everyone agreed at least one prefect from each house, in addition to the golden trio, would sit at a different table tonight and every day this week to get it started.

Having covered all the points on her list and checked with Michael Corner, the head boy, that there was nothing she'd missed (there wasn't), Hermione asked if there was any other business.

"Yeah," piped a sixth year Ravenclaw boy. "What's he doing here?"

His finger was pointed accusingly at Draco, who was sat to one side of the compartment, with Harry sitting next to him. He'd tried to make it so he was present but not noticeable, but had apparently failed.

Michael and Hermione looked at one another and he gestured that she ought to take this one as she'd been the one to talk to him.

"Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin prefect," she stated simply.

Everyone looked at her in silence. Clearly that wasn't going to be enough to close the matter.

"He was also a Death Eater. He let them into the castle, he fought for You-Know-Who, he murdered Dumbledore-"

"Enough!" Hermione's voice cut him off, the shock of hearing the head girl shout enough to quiet any other grumbles. "Draco Malfoy did not murder Professor Dumbledore - he was killed by Professor Snape under his own orders, and I'll be very disappointed should I hear that any of the prefects were spreading such drivel. It's an insult to both of their memories."

Hermione let that sink in in the silence that followed. The sixth year Ravenclaw had the decency to look sheepish.

"He has been cleared of all his crimes and he is back to do what we are all here for - to finish our education and put the war behind us. Michael and I have assigned him the same duties as everyone else and I trust he will carry them out as well as any of you, if not better, given that he is one of the most experienced wizards in the school. Now, if anyone has a problem with that you can come and see me after, but the topic is closed for now."

A few heads nodded in agreement and after checking there was nothing more, she dismissed them. Michael thanked her for all her hard work so far and promised to pull his weight as head boy, which made her chuckle. Eventually she was the only one left and she sighed loudly.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

She spun round at the sound of the voice, wand drawn and her heart beating double time.

"Nice reflexes."

Draco stood from his spot at the side of the compartment and raised his hands in mock surrender. She lowered her wand and blushed.

"Sorry, you just scared me, I thought everyone had gone."

"Nowhere to go, remember?"

She smiled sadly at him.

"I'd offer you a spot in our compartment but I think Ron would have some kind of fit," she explained. "Sorry. Harry and I are working on him, but he always was the last to change his mind on anything. Although Rupert, that Ravenclaw kid, seems to be right alongside him. We've got our work cut out for us if we're going to change everyone's minds."

"We?" he asked, quite taken aback by her statement. He thought she had only said those things because she was head girl and it was the right thing to do, but there was no audience now and she was still on his side.

"Yes, we. Harry and I have discussed it and if you're serious about turning over a new leaf then we'll do the same. Seems only fair. Besides, what Rupert said was not only factually incorrect but downright insulting. Snape and Dumbledore cooked up the perfect plan, protecting you and maintaining Snape's cover in the process. To deny it is to deny their genius and their sacrifice. I won't stand for it."

He nodded in agreement, there seemed little else he could do, faced with such forceful argument. She nodded in return and left the compartment.

He settled down to think about the curious girl - or rather, young woman - who had come to his aid twice today.


	6. The Great Hall

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

The Great Hall was busy by the time Hermione and Ginny made it to the Gryffindor table. The boys had saved them a spot towards the far end, the traditional seventh year area of the long tables.

As they sat down the large doors at the end of the hall opened and Hagrid led in a group of tiny first years, dressed in their plain black robes. Many of them pointed at Harry as they walked past but most were focused on the sights of the Great Hall to pay too much attention to a boy they'd be spending the year at school with.

The headmistress stood and welcomed the new joiners and explained the proceedings before beginning the sorting.

A small blonde girl called Amelia Allsorts was sorted into Hufflepuff to cheers from that table, and Percy Brotherton, a tall, skinny boy with dark, curly hair was sorted into Ravenclaw to more cheers. The third boy, a short blond boy called Thomas Drowley, approached the stool with some hesitation and closed his eyes as the hat was put on his head. He screwed up his face and he seemed to be chanting something as the hat considered him, before shouting out 'Slytherin!' as loud as possible.

The boy's eyes flew open and he went completely pale. He looked at the headmistress with tears in his eyes. Nobody moved for what seemed like ages but in reality was probably only a few seconds. The hall was eerily silent.

"Unlucky little scrap, I wouldn't want to be sorted into that house," murmured Ron, "especially not with Malfoy back. Imagine the common room chat 'Hands up who's parents are in Azkaban!'" He shuddered but his grin was a dead give away and Hermione kicked him under the table.

"Ron, can't you be a little bit sympathetic, the poor boy is probably terrified. Besides, we're supposed to be promoting house unity, don't be so divisive. Someone should go and speak to him."

Just at that moment the scraping of one of the benches against the floor could be heard and the group looked round to the far end of the Slytherin table, where a solitary figure was moving. He walked purposefully down the side of the hall, his robe billowing behind him as he approached the front of the hall, all eyes on him. He knelt beside the small boy still sitting on the stool, unmoving.

"Do you know who I am?" he spoke softly so only Thomas and the headmistress could hear. The boy merely nodded in reply.

"I'm a prefect in Slytherin house, do you know what that means?"

The boy shook his head.

"It means, no matter what, I've got your back. Slytherins are proud and ambitious but we are also loyal to one another. We're a family; a dysfunctional one, granted, but every single person in this house has your back. Do you understand?"

The small boy looked into the piercing grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, and nodded.

"Good. Now join your housemates, we have a feast to get to and I am a big fan of pudding."

The younger boy hopped down from the stool and with one last glance at the headmistress, ran over to join his new housemates.

Draco stood, brushed down his clothes and nodded to the headmistress, who nodded in return, a hint of a grin on her face, before returning to his seat at the far end of the Slytherin table.

The rest of the sorting went without a hitch.

Once completed, the headmistress rose to give her start of term speech. It felt so strange to be standing there, in Albus' place, but she had a duty to this school and she was not about to let the students or the memory of so many down.

"Welcome to our new students and welcome back to so many of you. Before we begin our feast I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Weasley."

Bill Weasley stood from his place at the head table and bowed slightly. Ron groaned and tried to disappear into the collar of his robes, while Ginny kicked him under the table. Bill's appointment had been a source of much amusement over the summer, but Ron thought having his brother as a teacher was probably the worst thing about coming back to school.

"As a celebration, the school will be hosting a Yule ball at the end of the term, which will be for all students," the headmistress continued over the gasps and chatter that erupted. "It will be a small celebration, with food, music and dancing, but prefects are reminded to report any and all underage drinking to their heads of house.

"In addition, the forbidden forest is off limits to all students - and I do mean all, this year. Returning witches and wizards from third year and above are eligible for Hogsmeade visits with a permission slip, and, as we have so many older students in our halls this year, those of you of age have the freedom to leave the school at weekends, providing you sign out with your head of house and sign back in again on your return. Do remember you will be unable to apparate from within the grounds, I'm certain Madam Pomfrey does not want to be repairing minor splinches all term."

The headmistress looked out at the fresh faces of the first and second years and then further down the table at the worn and weary faces of teenagers who had fought a battle - as her comrades and her enemies.

"The past year has been a difficult time. There has been great loss – on both sides." She paused and removed her glasses, rubbing her tired eyes. "Sides. That word has been used a lot lately. There has been a lot of talk about the good side and the bad side, the light and the dark. Such things shouldn't even exist in a school, and yet so many of you were forced to one side or the other, forced to choose, or left with no choice at all. I always celebrated the houses of this great school as a way to make fast friends with like-minded people and encourage competition, in academic and sporting endeavours. What I never saw was that it also created sides. Well, it ends today."

She raised her wand and all the coloured banners and other defining insignia above and around each of the house tables changed to the Hogwarts crest. The gasps and murmurs of the students were quickly quieted by her raised hands.

"The school houses will still exist and I expect you to still have house pride - that is why we have just had a sorting. You will continue to have lessons and share dormitories with your housemates, but common areas will no longer be segregated. The Great Hall tables are free for all. Starting right now."

She nodded to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny as they rose and, with one last shared look, split up and went to sit at their respective tables.

Ron sat next to Luna, who didn't need to make space as her housemates had already left space either side of her. Ginny and Harry went to join Hannah Abbott on the Hufflepuff table who organised her housemates to give them enough space.

Hermione approached the Slytherin table with some trepidation. Pansy Parkinson shuffled so there was no space next to her. The only space that wasn't next to the first and second years at the far end of the table was between Blaise Zabini and Malfoy. She didn't want to seem hesitant so she walked purposefully and sat between the two men quickly.

The silence lasted just a moment before there was more shuffling of benches and at least one prefect from each house (in truth, one fifth year from Slytherin and a number of prefects from the other houses) followed suit and moved to another table. The murmurings continued until the headmistress held up her hands again.

"When you come for any meal in future, I expect you to pick a seat, not to gravitate to your old house. Our most senior students, our heads and prefects have led the way. Now, let's eat!"

She clapped her hands and the feast appeared before them.

Hermione began helping herself to shepherds pie. Once she'd finished she looked around for the vegetables only to discover that Malfoy was helping himself already. There was a moment of awkwardness as everyone watched to see what would happen.

Draco sensed the eyes of his housemates on him. Whilst many had been keen to distance themselves in the aftermath of his trial, his ex-girlfriend included, he knew he still set the tone at this table and the younger generation would follow his lead.

"Veg, Granger?"

Hermione stared at him, not quite comprehending what he'd said. She blinked and her mouth opened a couple of times without any sound to accompany it.

"Would you like some vegetables?" Draco repeated slowly.

"Um, yes please," Hermione responded, remembering her manners quickly, even as she blushed slightly.

"What the hell are you doing, Drakie!" The high-pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson sounded to their left. Both heads turned as Blaise Zabini tried to quiet her.

"I'm serving our head girl vegetables, Pansy, I would have thought even you could work that one out," Draco drawled, not breaking eye contact with the dark-haired witch.

"It was bad enough she helped herself to pie which we're all going to have to avoid eating now, but you're actually serving her, like some kind of, of-" she gesticulated, searching for the word. "Guest!" She finished, piercingly.

Blaise tried again, in vain, to quiet her. Hermione blushed whilst looking at her plate, unsure how to respond. She could see the occupants of the other tables starting to notice the commotion now. Ron was quickly turning puce with rage, but she could see Luna take his hand.

Draco turned away from Pansy and finished serving vegetables. He then helped himself to an especially large portion of the shepherds pie in front of Hermione.

"Drakie," Pansy whispered, theatrically. "She's a mudblood!"

Everyone stopped. This was the moment, Hermione could tell. What happened next would define how the Slytherins reacted to the new order. She looked up to the head table and she could see Professor McGonagall watching intently.

"Five points from Slytherin for using a slur against our head girl, Parkinson," Malfoy said, clearly enough for everyone to hear, even though he didn't even look up from his meal as he poured himself and then Hermione and Blaise a glass of pumpkin juice. At Pansy's indignant gasps, he added, "Don't make it more, Pansy. Not even you're stupid enough to test me."

Hermione held her head up higher.

"Shepherd's pie, Blaise?" She offered, taking up the offending serving spoon once more.

Blaise smirked at Draco over the bushy head between them and nodded. This year was certainly going to be interesting.

Pansy refused to speak to them for the remainder of the meal. The conversation was somewhat stilted at first but eventually the returning 7th Year Slytherins settled into quiet chatting amongst themselves. Everyone was careful not to reveal anything in front of the head girl, and nobody included her in their conversation but it was as close to normal as they were likely to get for a while.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Hermione whispered to the stoic blond to her right, once the chatter had resumed. The only indication that she had been heard was a slight hesitation of his fork in mid-air. When no reply was forthcoming she continued with her own meal.

"I didn't do it for you, Princess."

Draco carefully placed his cutlery on his plate, and made a show of wiping his mouth before continuing.

"Theo," he called. The dark haired boy on the other side of the table turned to face him. "How was your summer?"

Theo blanched at the question. But his friend's eyes flicked to the guest at the table who was listening intently and he swallowed before continuing.

"Well, Drake, probably not as shit as yours, given you were on house arrest until a week ago, but pretty dire," Theo answered. "After the first couple of weeks under house arrest when they realised they couldn't actually charge me for the crimes of my father, they raided the house almost weekly to check to see if darling dad had returned, and I was spat on the one time I went to Diagon Alley. Just peachy, really."

"You were spat on?" Hermione asked, the indignance clear in her voice, but Draco didn't give him time to answer.

"How about you Daphne?" he asked the blonde at Theo's side.

"Father's in Azkaban, he was one of the first to go to trial, seeing as he kept detailed diaries the Aurors found on their first search. Mother never took the mark, thank Circe, so the three of us were allowed home after a few weeks of searches and the first round of confiscations. Mother goes on about us making good matches because the reparations have nearly cleared us out - a slight dramatisation, you understand," she added when Hermione made a noise as if to interrupt. "She keeps on and on until Astoria bursts into tears."

Hermione was once again thwarted in her attempts to follow up with questions.

"Greg?"

Gregory Goyle looked up from his plate for the first time since Hermione had joined them. The look in his eyes was vacant and the circles under them were dark and pronounced, from weeks - possibly months - of disturbed sleep.

"Don't want to talk about it," was his gruff response.

Hermione was stunned, she didn't even try to say anything as Draco turned to Millicent and Tracy in turn, both of whom had similar stories of run-ins with the authorities and relatives in Azkaban. She had assumed it was bad, of course, and she'd hoped some of the Slytherins had changed their tune, but she hadn't really thought it was this bad. Their side, even if they hadn't actively chosen a side, had lost, and now they were just trying to get by. She realised that Malfoy was simply leading the way. He was just about to ask Blaise and Pansy when she decided she'd had enough.

"You've made your point!" She whispered loudly, slamming her hand down on the table. In the silence that followed, Hermione could feel all eyes on her. Draco merely nodded and resumed his meal. Eventually, everyone returned to eating quietly.

"You didn't have to do that," she murmured, just loud enough for her neighbour to hear. "It was cruel and unnecessary. You could have just explained it to me, what you meant, I would have understood."

Draco continued eating the last of his meal and set his cutlery down, taking a long drag of pumpkin juice. Hermione watched his actions in the corner of her eye, it was clear he had heard her, he was just ignoring her. She returned to the last few mouthfuls of her meal.

"I have no doubt you could have followed any explanation I gave, Granger," he drawled, barely audible even at such close quarters. "But would you have believed me? You could have just assumed I was lying, or at least exaggerating. That things were not really all that bad for the losers in a war, for their children, who had no more choice than your Chosen One. You might have assumed I was playing you, that we don't all just want to get on with our lives if only someone would give us a chance." His eyes connected with hers to emphasise the message. "Well, now you know. So I'd say it was necessary."

Hermione swallowed and set her plate aside. She found herself no longer hungry. He was right, of course. As much as she prided herself on her sense of justice, right and wrong, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, if Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, had told her he'd defended her because his housemates wanted a clean start too and they were hoping she and Draco would help them get it she'd have laughed in his face.

"It was still cruel," she replied weakly, then smirked. "It's reassuring, really, I was beginning to wonder if we should have you checked for the imperius curse. Shaking Harry's hand, accepting McGonagall's offer to come back, helping ickle first years. Cruel is a welcome return to normality."

Draco kept his face impassive as he viewed the witch in front of him. He swirled the contents of his goblet to buy time. He could see Blaise shaking with barely contained laughter over her shoulder and while everyone was not looking their way, he could tell they were all listening intently, dinner and idle chatter ignored.

Hermione's confidence was crumbling until she heard Blaise sniggering behind her.

"You shook Potter's hand?" He managed to get out in between laughs.

"Piss off, wanker," Draco muttered, as the rest of the table joined in the laughter - even Goyle cracked a small smile.

When pudding arrived and everyone was happily digging into treacle sponge, ice cream and custard Hermione figured it was safe to talk again.

"Sorry I outed you," she whispered to her right.

Draco stopped eating momentarily. Most people at the table knew not to interrupt him during pudding, he did have a terrible sweet tooth. Once he was onto his second helping he turned to her to answer but Theo interrupted him.

"So Granger, what was your summer like?"

Hermione looked like a rabbit in headlights, her eyes darted from the piercing blue eyes of Theo Nott, the same boy who had never said more than two words to her before, to Draco Malfoy, the enigma she was sitting next to. She realised that everyone had diverted their attention to her, even Pansy had her ear tilted to their conversation, though she stoically ignored them otherwise. Hermione swallowed and cleared her throat before answering.

"Well, immediately after the, um," she stopped and fussed with her napkin before starting again. "Immediately after, there was a lot to do, statements to give, evidence to be presented and explaining to do. We'd been on the run for the best part of a year by that point. And once that was done, and the, uh, the funerals were over, I went to Australia."

"Australia?" Daphne asked, her interest piqued by the unusual location, it was well known the wizarding community in Australia was very small. "Why on earth did you go there?"

"My parents were there," Hermione answered carefully. "They were there for the duration of the war."

Every Slytherin at the table heard the hesitation in her voice, they had all heard enough lies or half-truths to spot one a mile away. Daphne shifted uncomfortably on the bench and Hermione could feel the change in atmosphere.

"Did they like it?" Theo ventured, and Hermione threw him a grateful smile.

"Yes - in fact they've decided to stay. They have a surgery set up and they're quite settled," she smiled. "Besides, they sold their house when they moved so, it made sense not to return."

Daphne shifted on her bench once more. Even Greg had looked up from the ice cream he was currently swirling around his bowl.

"Well, what did you do after that?"

Hermione threw her grateful little smile at Daphne this time.

"Ron, Harry, Ginny and I spent most of the summer together. There were some things we had to do for the ministry, or for the headmistress, but mostly we just hung out, enjoyed not being on the run, eating hot meals, sleeping in comfy beds."

Living without constant fear went without saying.

"That sort of thing. Not very interesting really."

The tension at the table was palpable.

"What?" She asked, hesitantly. "What did I say?"

Theo coughed and the rest of the group returned to their desserts, a little quieter than before. Daphne reached a hand over the table to reassure the other girl.

"Nothing, it's just," she sighed. "That sounds really nice. I think we'd have liked a summer like that."

Hermione felt the uncomfortable knot in her stomach grow. She had approached McGonagall's house unity task with determination to make it work, partnered with cynicism, but perhaps the older witch had been onto something when she came up with the plan, or perhaps she'd spoken to more of the returning Slytherins than she'd previously admitted. Here was a group of people who were currently pariahs, most of them because of the crimes of their parents.

Most of them, but not all, she reminded herself. There was one marked Death Eater and two vocal supporters of the old regime at the table with her, and at least one of them still had an issue with her blood status. It would do well, she thought, to remember the nature of Slytherins, and purebloods in general, to use whatever they could to their advantage.


	7. Normality resumes

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

Although Blaise kept his distance where possible to minimise Pansy's objections, despite Draco's reservations on the train journey up, in the 7th year boys dorm it almost felt like everything had returned to normal. Almost, apart from the fact there were only 4 beds now, instead of 5.

Greg kept to himself, Draco had tried to reach out to him a couple of times but he was clearly still struggling with the loss of Vince and Draco suspected he was simply making that worse, a constant reminder.

As a group, the 7th Year Slytherins set the tone for the rest of their house. They'd heard a few grumblings in the common room but they'd shut down any attempt at retribution, or even pranks. Even Greg had stopped a third year attempting to set fire to the hair of a bunch of Gryffindors who had tripped him up.

As Draco and Theo shared most of their classes, they quickly fell into a firm, if quiet friendship. Although Draco hadn't been all that close to the quiet boy at school before, they had known each other since birth and they could hardly afford to be picky in friendships this year.

As they rushed to Arithmancy, Draco had to stop to take points from a second year Gryffindor who was flying a racing broom around the halls for a dare, so they arrived slightly late and out of breath. Unfortunately it seemed two of the Ravenclaws they shared this advanced class with were having a lovers' spat and were no longer sitting together. This meant their usual desk was already partly occupied. The only free seats were next to the spurned Ravenclaw boy at the back and the front desk, next to Granger.

Draco, who had arrived slightly before Theo (the older boy cursing his long legs and his relative youth) dashed for the seat at the back of the classroom. On reflection, it looked like he didn't want to sit next to Granger and he grimaced at the politically awkward visual, but in reality he just didn't want to sit at the front of the class. Theo grumbled and glared at his friend as he took his seat next to the Head Girl.

"Sorry, Granger. Everywhere else is taken."

Hermione looked up from her notes and smiled at Theo. At least someone in Slytherin had manners, not that she had much to complain about over the past couple of weeks - most of their house had kept silent and to themselves. She hadn't had anyone hassle her since that first meal. If anything she was starting to worry about the quiet house, they hadn't so much as played a prank. Even the Hufflepuffs had been more trouble for her on rounds.

"Hi Theo," she ventured, as he pulled books, parchment and quills from his bag. "Um, you don't mind if I call you Theo, do you? Nott just seems so formal." She blushed and busied her hands straightening her already immaculate pile of notes and spare quills.

Theo paused in his actions and turned to the strange girl beside him. Take down the most evil wizard of all time? Sure. Face some of his most violent, deranged followers and live to tell the tale? Why not? But socially interact with people? That's what made Hermione Granger nervous. He was about to snigger when he caught a flash of blond hair in the corner of his eye. Draco was watching intently. Ridiculous boy thought it was his job to redeem Slytherin house single-handedly. Idiot.

"Well, it is my name," he replied. "Don't suppose you'd return the favour, Hermione?"

Hermione beamed at her neighbour.

"Deal."

Theo and Hermione sat next to each other for the rest of the week's Arithmancy classes. They were quiet but they discussed the assignments in class and worked together well when required. At the end of the second week of school, Ron had found out about her new class partner and had taken to walking her to and from the Arithmancy classroom. That had been a fun evening in the common room.

Ron was waiting outside the Arithmancy classroom when Hermione emerged, discussing the homework with Theo.

"Mione! Come on," he called. "I thought today was the day you're going to ask McGonagall about quidditch on Saturday?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron and Harry had persuaded her to ask the headmistress if she could have a pick-up-quidditch game for her birthday the following Saturday. Not that she really cared for pick-up-quidditch, but hers was the first birthday of the year and everyone enjoyed a good game.

"Sure, Ron, let's head there now," she said turning to Theo. "You're welcome to join us on Saturday, Theo."

She hesitated as Malfoy filed out of the classroom and hung back behind Theo.

"Same goes for you too, Malfoy."

Ron made some spluttering noises at her side but she silenced him with a look.

"What's got Weasley's wand in a knot?" Draco drawled. The ginger wizard was slowly turning an impressive shade of red.

"Pick-up quidditch," Theo answered carefully. "This Saturday. Hermione here was good enough to extend an invitation to us." Theo regarded his friend closely. He had been leading the charge when it came to making a clean start, but he didn't know how long it would last, or how deep his new-found friendliness (or rather, lack of hostility) would go.

Draco considered the offer carefully, while he rearranged his bag on his shoulder for time. He knew Granger was terrible on a broom, so it clearly wasn't her quidditch game, which meant it was probably Potter and Weasley's game. A game he would very much not be welcome at. He sighed, he'd been missing quidditch.

"Thanks, Granger," he ventured, "but I'm sure Potter and Weasley don't appreciate you inviting us to their quidditch game."

Hermione scoffed in a very unladylike manner.

"I can invite whoever I like to my own birthday celebration, thank you very much indeed," she insisted, brushing some hair out of her face. "If they want me to ask the headmistress to allow us to play quidditch for my birthday then they'll just have to deal with whoever I invite."

By the end she was staring at Ron, who stood mute at her side, his face near purple from the effort of not saying something.

"Well, we couldn't possibly miss a birthday invite," Draco smirked as he pulled Theo down the corridor. "We'll be there."

Theo looked at his friend and the blond wizard raised a pale eyebrow in reply.

"If the Gryffindor princess wants to invite us to play quidditch with her friends, who am I to say no?" He whispered, barely audible.

When they were out of earshot, Hermione braced herself for the onslaught from Ron but found him still silent. She looked at him but he was trying very hard to remain calm.

"House unity, Ron," she reminded him, in a sing-song voice. "As head girl it would be wrong of me to invite all the 7th years from three of the houses, and not extend the invite to Slytherins at all.

"So if you want me to get quidditch on the table, you'll play nicely."

She could tell the exact moment he told Harry. Across the common room she heard him yell "What? You can't be serious, Harry!" And storm off up to the boy's dorm.

A few minutes later, Hermione felt the sofa dip next to her and she finished the paragraph she was reading and set her book aside.

"Harry, before you say anything-"

"Relax, Hermione," he interrupted. "I told him it was the right thing to do, and obviously you heard how well that went down."

Her friend ran his hand through his hair - she could read him like a book, there was more to come.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, tentatively. Harry knew Hermione's desire to support the idea of house unity as head girl coupled with her ability to see the good in people could have made her a target this year and he just didn't want to see her taken advantage of.

"I'm sure, Harry. Theo is really quite sweet, if a bit quieter than I'm used to," she raised an eyebrow to accentuate her point, and Harry had the decency to blush. "Besides, the Slytherins have barely been a presence this year - they haven't taunted or cheated, no hexing in the hallways, nothing. Nobody has called me," she lowered her voice and checked for younger students. "Mudblood since Pansy that first night - and remember who dealt with that?"

Harry nodded, they had discussed Malfoy's change of heart at great length. Hermione saw his continued good behaviour as a sign he'd really changed his ways, but Harry was more cautious. Sure, he hoped for the best, but he still suspected something was up.

"If you're sure, Mione," he bent to kiss her head. "What the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets, right?"

* * *

Saturday morning Hermione was greeted by Ginny banging on her door.

"Come on, Mione!" The younger girl yelled once Hermione had relented and opened the door with her wand from her bed.

"Honestly, Gin, the one day of the year I'm not rushing out of bed to study or get to class and you decide to wake me?"

"Harry and the boys are already heading to breakfast so they can get to the pitch for a quick practice - I drew the short straw because I'm the only one who can come up here to get you!"

They rushed through breakfast before Hermione was dragged to the quidditch pitch by her friends. There was talk of who would beat who, what the house elves would prepare for lunch and how many books Hermione would get for presents. Hermione couldn't help but be cheered by the normality of the situation - this was what their childhoods had been missing.

As they approached, the group of Gryffindors could see a few people already gathered by the pitch - Luna was visible from a distance with her long blond hair blowing in the light breeze, along with many of their comrades from DA in other houses, but it was the group of older students sitting apart from Luna and the others that caught Hermione's attention. She marched ahead as everyone stopped short.

"Theo, you made it!" She beamed.

Theo stepped forward so he was ahead of the rest of the Slytherins and waited as Hermione and Harry approached him. Ron stepped forward too but his sister held his wrist so he could hear the conversation but not interfere.

"Wouldn't have missed it, Princess," Theo answered, and Hermione blushed at the nickname.

Theo held his hand out to Harry, who was a little startled and fussed with his glasses before reciprocating.

"Looking forward to a good game, Potter."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair and shifted his feet.

"Everyone from your house looking forward to the same thing?" He asked, cautiously. "I mean, Hermione knows some healing spells but I think she'd rather not use them on her birthday."

Theo turned and gestured to the group behind him and Malfoy and Zabini stepped forward.

"We're happy to take a wand oath that we'll play fair, if you'd feel more comfortable."

Hermione shook her head and stepped between the two dark haired wizards sizing each other up.

"That won't be necessary, Theo. But maybe you could be the second team captain, as that will stop Ron and Ginny from killing one another on opposing sides?"

"Captain?" He chuckled. "Merlin, no, I'm worse than dreadful. I'm ok as keeper but honestly all that flying around and tactics and ball management? Nope, can't do that. Malfoy's the man for that."

Hermione whipped her head to the blond wizard and brown eyes met grey. Normally she would have scoffed at the suggestion, but his eyes weren't shuttered like they usually were. He was an open book right now, and he was braced for rejection.

"If you think you're up to it, Malfoy?" Harry teased, holding out his hand.

Draco hadn't dared to hope for such a warm reception. Gryffindors were much more forgiving than Slytherins it seemed. He smirked and shook the offered hand.

"Bring it on, Potter."

They divided into teams and warmed up with the quaffle until everyone had come down from the castle. Some of the younger years had joined them, but Hermione sat in the stands surrounded by her non-flying friends, the other Slytherins sitting just slightly off to one side, drinking bottles of butterbeer and eating sweets and cakes.

When the warm up was over, Malfoy and Harry approached Hermione to start the game.

"So what are we playing for, Hermione?" Harry asked, a smirk on his face.

"How about my respect and admiration, Harry? And maybe an extra helping of cake later?"

"Cake, Granger?" Draco scoffed as he hovered in front of her. "If we win," - if I finally beat Potter to the snitch, he thought - "there's going to be firewhiskey. Lots and lots of really good quality firewhiskey."

Harry laughed and Hermione blushed and fussed with her dress.

"Did he just say firewhiskey?" Ron shouted from above them.

"Yeah he did, Ron, but only if they win!" Harry shouted back. "Makes me almost want to throw the game!"

Hermione listened to the banter - even Theo and Blaise were joining in - and she smiled. Her birthday was turning out to be the perfect example of house unity.

"For my respect and admiration!" She yelled as she let the snitch go and, a moment later, threw up the quaffle.

The game was close - Harry's team, made up of mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, had good chasers and Theo was only passable when it came to keeping, but the Slytherin chasers were outstanding and seemed to communicate without words, making Ron work doubly hard at the other end of the pitch. In the end it was going to come down to the snitch.

Harry and Draco circled high above the game, looking for any flash of gold. Harry kept a close eye on his competition, looking for any sign he'd spotted the snitch. Draco caught his eye at one point and flew over beside him.

"Can't seem to keep your eyes off me, Potter. Should Weaselette be worried?"

Harry spluttered a bit before he laughed out loud.

"Alert the Prophet!" He yelled between guffaws. "Draco Malfoy has a sense of humour!"

Draco smirked and was about to say something scathing but hilarious in return when he saw a flash of gold hovering near the stands behind Potter. He immediately started a dive in the opposite direction, which Harry followed. When they were neck and neck, he pulled back and shot off towards the stands.

Hermione looked up when the seekers started their dive. Play on the pitch below was abandoned as everyone watched with rapt attention. Draco was zooming towards the stand holding most of the 7th years at such a pace Hermione was convinced he was gunning for them. As he approached and showed no signs of slowing the screaming began and she drew her wand in case it was needed.

Draco was vaguely aware of some commotion in the stands but the snitch was just hovering above the stands, too high for anyone to reach, but close enough his trajectory had to be flawless otherwise he'd end up in the hospital wing. At the final minute he twisted in mid-air and reached for the snitch, closing his fingers around it before coming to a full stop above the stands.

He had done it. He had caught the snitch playing against Harry "Chosen One" Potter. He looked around for someone to share the news with. His teammates were cheering and performing acrobatic tricks on their brooms. The stands were a mess, many people had seemingly moved away from his path, but his eyes met warm brown and he smiled. He had the perfect idea for getting back in the black with Hermione Granger, the one who had thrown him the best life line so far. He flew down until he was level with her and he winked.

"What was that you said about respect and admiration, Granger?"

Her shocked expression changed suddenly into a glorious smile breaking his concentration and he wobbled on his broom a little.

Pansy and Daphne had recovered from Draco's near-miss with the stands, to witness the exchange of smiles. Daphne had to grab at Pansy's hand as she started towards the two. Pulling her close she whispered in her friend's ear.

"Pans, you dumped him remember? And your boyfriend is fast approaching!"

Pansy allowed herself to be pushed towards Blaise as Daphne congratulated Theo.

Harry and Ron quickly flanked Draco and offered him their congratulations, somewhat grudgingly from Ron. He perked up when Ginny reminded Draco his promise of firewhiskey.

After a hearty late lunch provided by the elves (on the condition that not one of them would be forced to take clothes) the weather turned colder and Harry suggested everyone retire to the Gryffindor common room for Hermione's presents and a continuation of the festivities.

The Slytherins were making their excuses when Theo and Draco shared a look and said that they would be delighted to join them. Pansy's eyes bulged so far Blaise was genuinely concerned for her sight.

Blaise was no fool - Pansy was using him to get back at Draco. She was left in the dungeons whilst he, Greg and Vince went off to fight. It was when she realised Draco had rescued two of his best mates from imprisonment and not her, that he'd rather have those two at his side in battle, not his girlfriend, that she'd started coming on to Blaise. It was a little heavy-handed for his liking, but she kept herself in shape and she was easy. But Merlin, he was struggling to ignore her flaws now they were back at school and her constant fawning over one of his best mates was the hardest part. He pulled her closer to him and suggested they go for the firewhiskey Draco had promised.

On the walk back to the castle Theo fell in line with his best mate and shared a concerned look. Draco just smirked and shook his head in response. Whatever Draco was up to, he wasn't sharing.

The elves outdid themselves again and the common room was full of sweets, food, butterbeer and a big pile of presents when they returned. Everyone had their fill as the sun set and Hermione sat down by the fire surrounded by her friends before opening her gifts.

There were books from Harry and Ginny, a whole parcel of muggle clothes and make-up from her parents, and a knitted hat from Mrs Weasley. Ron had opted for a leather bound journal that Hermione immediately declared would be used for her revision, causing everyone to groan. Most of the rest of the presents were sweets from Honeydukes and some choice items from George's shop - including some items she was sure weren't on sale yet.

The final gift was a box of high-end chocolates from Theo, her thanks for which caused him to blush uncharacteristically. Looking up, she was suddenly faced with a familiar sight - Draco Malfoy was smirking at her. He sauntered up to her and held out his hand. There, fluttering just above his palm was the golden snitch from today's game.

"Happy Birthday, Granger."

Hermione hesitated. Even Harry had never offered her a game snitch before. Unless they were practice snitches, which this was not, they would never again be able to be used in a match because of their flesh memory charm. The professionals sometimes auctioned off game snitches for huge amounts of money, but she knew most seekers just kept them as trophies.

This was the first snitch Malfoy had caught against Harry. It was special, there would never be another first, and this snitch would never be anything else.

"Come on Princess, it won't bite," he drawled. "Besides, I didn't get you a present."

Hermione tentatively reached out and took the golden ball from him, watching as the delicate wings folded in on themselves and it came to rest, finally, in her palm.

"I think you've rendered her speechless, Malfoy," Ginny shouted across the room.

"If I'd known that was all it took, I'd have given her a snitch years ago!" Harry added, as the room erupted in laughter.

Hermione blushed deep crimson and closed her fist around the precious gift.

"Thank you, Malfoy. It's an excellent keepsake, I'll always be able to remember this birthday now."

They toasted her again with butterbeer before Malfoy produced a couple of bottles of firewhiskey, shrunk to fit inside his pocket, and the older students got thoroughly merry. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd been so carefree. Everyone was just acting like normal teenagers - snogging in corners, laughing and joking, drinking a bit too much. It was marvellous. People drifted back to their own dorms in dribs and drabs until only Gryffindors remained, and Hermione fell asleep on the sofa in front of the fire surrounded by her friends, a huge smile on her face.

On Sunday, breakfast was served until midday with extra coffee.

Ron loaded up his plate with sausages and fried bread and slumped over a cup of pumpkin juice Hermione had thrust at him.

"It was all going so well until the snakes had to take it too far with the firewhiskey."

Ginny and Hermione's laughs pierced his head, and he groaned.

"I didn't hear you complaining when you were helping yourself to yet another glass of Ogden's finest last night," Ginny reminded him. Ron had clung to his dislike of the Slytherins until the second round of top-ups, arguing that it could have been poisoned. When nothing untoward happened, he argued instead that he had some catching up to do.

"Yeah, well, they didn't have to bring two bottles, did they? It's irresponsible," he grumbled. "Plus, rubbing their victory in Harry's face like that? Typical."

Harry, Ginny and Hermione shared a smile across the table and Hermione rolled her eyes before pointing her wand at the red-head and casting a quick pain-relieving charm designed specifically for what ailed him.

"Thanks, Mione."

McGonagall sat at the head table reading the paper and observing her 7th Year students, a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh to be young and foolish, Filius," she mused, as the professor joined her.

"Speak for yourself, Minerva," Professor Flitwick replied. "I was never foolish!"


	8. Surprising Revelations

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

**_A/N: Sorry for the delay, 2020 not turning out to be the best year…_**

In the week after Hermione's birthday party, Harry and Ron had prefect duties - as Harry was new to the role, Hermione had given him easy partners for the first term. As they walked the familiar route to the potions classroom, they heard voices from the hall by the Slytherin common room. Ron was ready to dock some points, but Harry was more cautious - if the war had taught him anything it was to be prepared.

They crept forward in the shadows, casting a quick muffliato to silence their movements, making sure to keep from being seen but close enough to hear every word around the corner.

"But Drakie, I just don't understand whyyy!" a familiar female voice whined.

"Pansy, why did you drag me out here - you dumped me, remember? Isn't Blaise waiting for you?"

"Drakie, don't be stupid, it doesn't suit you," she replied curtly, the whine suddenly gone from her voice. "Blaise is fun, but you know as well as he does, I just did that to get back at you for leaving me in the dungeon during the battle. I wanted to be a part of it, to be with you."

Draco laughed mirthlessly.

"Pansy you are fucking deranged!"

Harry and Ron heard a scuffle and peeked around the corner to see Draco pinning Pansy against the wall of the hallway. They drew their wands, just in case, but Harry didn't think Malfoy was about to hurt the witch, just wanted to get her attention and signalled to Ron to wait it out.

"It was a battle you daft witch!" He hissed. "People died - Vince fucking died! And you shagged one of my best mates to make me jealous for leaving you down here, safe and sound? You're insane!"

"But Drakie, don't you see, you can stop making nice with the Gryffindorks now. I saw you looking at Granger, making nice with her on the first night, and that thing with the snitch? You've made your point, so stop it now. Just come back to me and everything will be fine."

"You're not listening Pans," Draco scoffed. "I'm not doing it to get back at you. This was never tit-for-tat - if I'd known you were with Blaise to annoy me, I could have told you not to bother. Blaise and I were like brothers growing up, same with Theo. I wouldn't begrudge them anything." He paused for effect, loosening his grip on her. "Even you."

"Then why?"

Harry grimaced at the high-pitched whine. At that moment he felt sorry for Malfoy for being so close to it.

"My mother told me something before my trial, Pans, would you like to know what she said?" She rolled her eyes, but he continued. "She said honesty is the new currency and the Malfoys - and the Parkinsons too, and any other old family you can think of - are in debt. And I don't like being in debt.

"If honesty is the new currency, well then the Malfoys shall be rolling in it before the year is out."

Pansy laughed then and a grimace crossed Malfoy's usually impassive face.

"So, you're using her? You sneaky bastard!"

Harry had to physically restrain Ron as he lunged forwards, wand drawn.

"What the hell, Harry?" He spluttered. "You heard him - he's using Hermione!"

"No, Ron, that's what Parkinson said. I want to hear Malfoy's side of it before I attack him while on patrol."

"He didn't deny it though, did he?" Ron grumbled. "If he so much as looks at her funny-"

"Yeah, yeah, ok," Harry said as he heard Pansy's heels retreating down the hallway. He inclined his head in their direction and Ron reluctantly went back to listening intently.

"So, are you going to break up with Blaise?" Malfoy yelled after her.

"Why would I do that?" She giggled. "He's under no illusions. I'll keep him around until we get bored or until you're done sullying yourself with Granger to clean up your reputation. Ciao, Drakie!"

Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder again, and the red head shrugged him off. It seemed he was no longer intent on attacking Malfoy for Parkinson's statements. They both stiffened as a new set of footsteps approached.

"Merlin she's dim," the newcomer groused.

Malfoy chuckled and Harry shifted so he could just see the two figures slide down the wall to the floor.

"That she is, Theo, but she gives great head."

"I did not need to think about that," Theo groaned. "How do your lot cope with that? All that drama, all that whining, all that high-pitched bullshit. Makes me glad I'm flying for the other side."

Malfoy chuckled again, as Harry's eyebrows reached his hairline. He looked at Ron who made a face and shook his head. So, it wasn't just him in the dark about Nott's preferences. He would definitely have to remember to tell Ginny this latest tidbit, she loved a bit of gossip.

"So, was she right? Are you going to shag Granger to clean up your name?"

"Fuck, Theo," Malfoy exclaimed as he punched his friend in the arm. "I may be a right wanker, but do you think my mother would stand by while I used a woman like that and tossed her aside?"

"So Narcissa Malfoy is now in the business of defending mudbloods-"

"Don't," Draco snapped. "Don't say that, I've had about as much of that word as I can handle from Pansy."

He dragged a hand tiredly across his face.

"Not sure about actively defending them, but my mother and I no longer believe in all that blood purity crap. And I think you're in the same boat."

Theo's silence was answer enough.

"Besides, I'm not interested in her like that, it's just that, she's the only one who - it's like we're drowning and she's the only one trying to keep us above water."

"Uh-huh"

Draco smacked his friend on the arm again.

"Don't 'uh-huh' like that with me. I mean it, I don't see her like that."

Theo studied his friend and nodded before dragging himself up and dusting off his trousers and walking off, leaving Malfoy sitting alone in the corridor.

"Potter!"

Harry was stunned by the sudden summons, especially as they were still in the shadows and had cast a muffliato. He exchanged a surprised look with Ron before stepping out of the shadows and into the dim light of the hallway.

"You shouldn't listen in to people's private conversations, you know. It's very rude."

Ron stepped out of the shadow in a rush.

"And you'd know all about rude, wouldn't you? Not so nice to be on the receiving end, is it?"

Harry managed to calm his friend and persuade him to leave the hallway so they could talk. Ron grumbled something about staying close by just in case before disappearing round the corner.

"If you shout with a muffliato, it negates the effect," Draco continued, as if there had been no interruption. "It's not designed to be used like that, it's just for covert conversation. As soon as Weasley - I'm assuming it was Weasley who shouted," Harry nodded. "As soon as Weasley shouted I could hear you scuffing your shoes on the wall trying to get a better view."

Harry had the sense to look sheepish being caught listening in, especially considering the personal nature of the discussions. He slumped down the wall opposite Malfoy and the two sized each other up.

"Did you hear enough?"

"I heard a lot of things, Malfoy," Harry countered. "But if you knew we were listening why should I trust anything you said?"

Draco smiled - that was almost Slytherin logic. He was reluctantly impressed.

"Too true, Potter, but Pansy and Theo were unawares. They said things they'd probably rather didn't leave this corridor. I could piss you off to the point that Weasley goes and spills their secrets over breakfast, or I could use them as bargaining chips."

"Bargaining chips?"

"You have dirt on two of my friends. You can hold that over my head to make me behave, especially where Granger's concerned."

Harry scoffed.

"I don't have anything on you, though, Malfoy. It wouldn't be the first time a Slytherin sold his fellow housemates out."

"True," Draco conceded, "but I meant what I said about Theo - he's like a brother to me. We take care of each other."

Harry nodded; he was all too familiar with that kind of friendship. Perhaps not the same, he suspected Draco Malfoy had more acquaintances than friends, but his concern for Theo seemed genuine, and that admission had been before they'd given away their snooping, so it seemed legitimate.

Harry picked himself up off the floor, dusted off his trousers and held his hand out for the blond, who stared at it for a moment before using it to pull himself up from the floor.

"Thanks, Potter."

"Don't mention it, Malfoy. Just remember, I'll be watching you."

* * *

Ron and Harry were being unusually protective. Ordinarily she wouldn't have noticed, they hung out a lot together, but when they offered to come to the library with her to study, she knew something was up.

"Ok, that's it, I've had enough. Why are you following me around like I need a bodyguard?"

"Why 'ione? D'you fin' y'nee'one?"

Harry and Hermione looked equal parts confused and disgusted as Ginny threw a piece of toast across the table at her brother. He swallowed and tried again.

"I said, do you think you need one?"

"No, Ronald, I do not need a minder. It was funny for a while when you thought Theo was going to attack me in Arithmancy and I know I basically forced you to socialise on my birthday but I do not need you to protect me in school. In case it passed you by, I managed to survive a war, I do not need wrapping in cotton wool."

"What's cotton wool?" Ron asked Harry when she had gone back to her book.

"Women's stuff, for all their creams and lotions and stuff," he answered, earning a glare from both Hermione and Ginny.

Both boys were silent for the remainder of breakfast. When Hermione got up to go to the library, she gave them both a stern look and they both sat down again until she'd left.

"Do you think we can sneak in, maybe use your cloak, Harry?"

"You're both idiots, Theo Nott isn't going to attack her on a sunny Sunday in the library. Besides, from what Harry told me, she's not his type."

The boys shared a look, that did not go unnoticed by Ginny. So this wasn't about Theo Nott, then? Intriguing, and Ginny did love a bit of gossip. She would have to get it out of Harry later.

The library was nearly empty. She breathed in the familiar scent - although the library had sustained damage in the battle, most of the books had been recovered and the library still maintained that old world smell, borne of old books and years of students hunched over these desks. Even if many of the desks were new or repaired, the history clung to this room all the same. Hermione felt at home here.

She nodded to Madam Pince and made her way straight to her favourite table, only to discover it was already occupied. Theo Nott was leaning over pointing something out to Draco Malfoy, of all people. Hermione was so stunned for a moment - Theo was clever, yes, but Malfoy had been on her heels from first year. Why did it look like Theo was tutoring him?

"This is pointless, Theo!" Draco exclaimed, throwing down his quill, earning a harsh shushing from Madam Pince. Looking up in the direction of the stern librarian, he saw Hermione stood next to their table, caught awkwardly half-staring, half-trying to leave.

"Can we help you, Granger?" He drawled.

"Ignore him, Hermione, come join us," Theo waved his wand and a chair slid out in a clear invitation to sit. "He's just frustrated by some of the advanced Arithmancy homework Professor Vector set him and he's taking it out on everyone."

"But Professor Vector hasn't set any homework this week." Hermione screwed up her face in confusion as she got out her books, parchment, and quills.

"Draco here is a special case-"

"It's sixth year stuff," Malfoy interrupted, throwing a look at his so-called friend in the process. Turning back to Hermione his eyes flashed a challenge. "Not all of us were totally focused on our studies in sixth year."

Hermione swallowed. Theo was watching intently, even if he was trying extremely hard to look nonchalant. The Slytherins had been behaving so well Malfoy was likely to be the one driving it all and he was challenging her to upset the apple cart. Well, she wasn't going to bite.

"I can well imagine," was all she said. "Perhaps if I knew what you were looking at, I could suggest an alternative text-"

"I don't need your pity, Granger."

Hermione's eyes flashed and the colour rose in her cheeks. She bit her tongue and started her work in earnest. Eventually the two boys started their study group again.

"Honestly, Draco, I don't know why you can't see that the sum of those is the root you're looking for!"

"There's no explanation for the leap from this step to the expression here," Draco hissed in response. "The text just skims over it, like I'm supposed to know!"

Hermione tried not to listen, really, she did. She never felt comfortable eavesdropping, even with Harry and Ron under the invisibility cloak. But from all the whispers she'd caught, and Theo's outburst, she had gathered that Draco Malfoy was stuck, and she knew exactly why. She had written Professor Vector a lengthy diatribe on the fact that the text she had set didn't cover all the steps but assumed that the reader would be able to make the logical leaps themselves. She had argued that while she shared Professor Vector's aptitude for Arithmancy, as she had with muggle mathematics, not everyone in the class would be able to keep up. She had received a tellingly short written response recommending a different text - by someone Hermione had discovered was in Professor Vector's Year at Hogwarts - which covered these steps in much more detail.

Hermione was struggling to concentrate on her own Transfiguration essay with all the huffing and whispering going on. She got up, walked to the Arithmancy section of the library, selected the reluctantly recommended text, and flicked to the relevant page as she walked back. She interrupted their hushed squabbling with a polite cough and slipped the text in front of them, obscuring the textbook and stunning them to silence.

"I think you'll find Winnifred's explanation more to your liking, Malfoy."

With that she sat back at the far end of the table and continued with her essay.

Theo and Draco sat in awe for a moment, before Draco pulled the text towards him and studied it, then furiously began scribbling notes with his quill.

"Thank you, Hermione."

Both Draco and Hermione's heads snapped up at Theo's words. Hermione blushed prettily and waved him off, smiling. Theo kicked his friend under the table.

"Ow!" Draco hissed. "What the hell, Theo?"

Sometimes his friend was the most suave character in all of wizarding Britain, and sometimes he was a clueless teenager. Theo tilted his head in Hermione's direction and saw the angry flash of his friend's eyes when he caught his meaning.

"Yeah, thanks Granger," he mumbled as he returned to his text.

Hermione noted the slight pink tinge to his usually alabaster cheeks. It seemed humble suited Draco Malfoy, however strange it was to see on his arrogant, pointy face. Who knew Draco Malfoy could blush?

"Well, if you'd just told me, I mean, I told Professor Vector that text jumped too much, and, well-" she stopped as two pairs of eyes, one blue, one grey, fixed on her. "Um, well, you're welcome."

Theo was intrigued. He'd never thought of Hermione Granger other than Harry Potter's Mudblood friend, and when he'd been old enough to notice what she looked like he'd realised he preferred looking at the boys than the girls. Draco had teased her mercilessly, and the war had taken that to a whole new level of awful - the papers had been fairly explicit in their coverage of the Malfoy trial and the torture of one muggleborn war hero in their drawing room. But as his oldest friend and Hermione Granger - his newest friend, he suspected - both blushed further and returned to their now fascinating texts, he wondered if the constant teasing had more to it. Theo smiled to himself and made a note to talk to Blaise about it later.


	9. A new kind of normal

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

Theo and Hermione left the Arithmancy classroom chatting about the project they'd just been assigned. After finding out Theo's preferences didn't include Hermione, Ron had felt it was no longer necessary to accompany her to and from all classes, so she was able to talk to him with ease.

Hermione had bristled at the idea that her ex-boyfriend was only protecting her from a guy who might be interested in her as a woman.

They were chatting so animatedly, it wasn't until Theo moved to the left and Hermione to the right that she realised they had walked all the way to the Great Hall for dinner.

They looked awkwardly at one another for a moment before laughing.

"Hermione, care to join me?"

Hermione's eyes quickly flicked to the Gryffindor table where she could see Ron busily stuffing his face already, and Harry and Ginny were deep in conversation.

"If you're sure that's alright, Theo, I'd love to."

"Pansy will probably throw a fit again, but just ignore her - Merlin knows the rest of us do."

Theo made it clear to the table that he had invited Hermione and he successfully distracted her from Pansy's complaining by chatting about Arithmancy at length.

She was so distracted she didn't notice that someone had sat down next to her with a very full glass of pumpkin juice until she managed to knock it over all over them.

Mortified, she turned to face the grey eyes of the one Slytherin she could have done without pissing off.

"I'm so sorry Malfoy!" She yelped as she tried to pick up the goblet with the rest of his drink and assess the damage. Despite being a witch, Hermione Granger had grown up a muggle and her immediate instinct was to use her napkin to dab at the rather large wet patch on his jumper.

"Oh look, the mudblood is trying to clean up the muggle way!" Pansy screeched.

Hermione halted immediately. She could sense everyone stopping around her. Even those nearby on other tables were listening now. Theo moved to say something but stopped, sharing a look with Draco and Blaise.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Hermione withdrew her wand and, after a small nod from Malfoy, wordlessly cleaned up the mess and put her wand away again.

"Pansy, could you please pass the pumpkin juice so I can refill Malfoy's glass."

Pansy made a disgusted snort-like noise, before flicking her hair and turning away. Theo moved to defend her again, but Hermione stayed his hand.

Without touching her wand, she non-verbally accioed the pitcher to her and poured a glass of pumpkin juice for Malfoy, and then another for herself.

The silence had been noticeable before, but now it was deafening.

"Granger, did you just cast wandless, non-verbal magic?" asked Theo.

Hermione was blushing a little, but Theo actually sounded impressed.

"It was just an accio. I've been practicing wandless magic for a couple of years now, and I can cast most of them non-verbally, if I know them well enough."

Pansy got up and stormed out of the Great hall, followed, slowly and somewhat reluctantly, by Blaise. The rest of the table went back to their dinners, whilst the small group of seventh years smirked at her. Someone let out a low whistle.

"Ok, why do I feel like that whole thing was a test?" Hermione mumbled, shaking her head.

Draco raised a perfect pale eyebrow at her.

"Brightest witch of your age, really Granger?" he drawled.

Hermione's face must have shown her confusion because Daphne took pity on her and reached across the table, offering her hand.

"Because it was, silly. Welcome to the Slytherin table, Granger."

Hermione shook the offered hand, which was followed up by a similar offer from Millicent and Tracey, and then Theo clapped her on the shoulder and picked up their conversation where they had left off. The only one who didn't directly congratulate her was Malfoy. He thanked her for the pumpkin juice and went back to his dessert, smirking all the time.

* * *

Hermione huffed under the weight of the advanced ancient runic text she was consulting. She had hoped to find the answer quickly, so she hadn't dragged the significant tome to a study desk. She propped the huge book on the shelf and rolled her shoulders. It was hopeless, the index itself was written in runes and she was too tired to keep this up. She dragged her bag and the book to the nearest table and dropped them both, causing a bang.

"For Merlin's sake!"

Hermione's head whipped round to the harsh whisper, about to apologise profusely for the unintentional disruption when grey eyes met brown.

"Oh, it's you."

The words were out of his mouth before his mind had even registered her presence fully. He cringed slightly.

"Yes, Malfoy, it's me," Hermione whispered back, anxious not to upset Madam Pince any more than she already had. "What of it?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

Hermione was about to retort when he held his hands up in surrender. It was such an unusual move from him she had to pause. She studied the man before her. He was surrounded by books; far too many for just one sitting - it was most probably the reason she hadn't noticed him before. It was mid-afternoon on Saturday, but he seemed to still be in his uniform. He had a faint sheen of sweat on his pale skin and his stubble was starting to show through. She'd never seen him so unkempt.

"How long have you been here, Malfoy?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Prefects are allowed in the library after it closes, you know," he replied cagily. "I'm sure you've pulled enough all-nighters to recognise one."

She was about to defend herself when she saw his mouth turn up in a small smirk.

"Well, I-" she cleared her throat to cover her embarrassment and smiled. "That's a fair point."

They both returned to their books at opposite ends of the table. After a few minutes, her curiosity got the better of her.

"So how long have you been here, Malfoy? I don't remember seeing you at dinner."

"Often stare at the Slytherin table during dinner, do you, Granger?"

Hermione flushed a little at the insinuation, but after seven years of Ron and Harry she wasn't about to be put off by a single comment.

"No, but that hair of yours is quite the spectacle. Hard to miss, especially when you consider the way I was facing and the fact I was there reading before dinner and-"

"Alright, Granger!" He snapped, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "Merlin, let it go."

"So, when did you last eat?"

Grey eyes flashed as he calmly set down his quill and leaned back in his chair to stare at her.

"You literally can't help yourself, can you?"

Hermione sighed.

"Even when I get really involved in my research, Ron and Harry always come and drag me to meals or make sure the elves bring me something," she explained quietly. "I'm sorry, but unless someone's been sneaking you food then I feel duty bound to make sure you're ok."

"Duty bound?" He scoffed. "Don't worry yourself, Head Girl. I've had worse."

"I'm not duty bound as Head Girl you idiot," she hissed. "I'm duty bound as a human being!"

She faltered for a moment, his words sinking in and the memories bubbling to the surface.

"And we've all had worse. Doesn't mean you aren't hungry."

Standing, she straightened her jumper and jeans and waited for him.

"Well?"

He gestured to his books, spread in messy piles all around him.

"I'm not exactly ready to go anywhere, am I?"

Hermione drew her wand and pretended not to notice the slight flinch it garnered. She wordlessly cast the stasis spell she often used when she needed to return to research after dinner and resumed her previous stance, which she sincerely hoped portrayed her impatience.

"It's a stasis spell - Madam Pince lets me use it when I need to leave research half-completed. She's not a fan of the mess but she has a soft spot for me so I can get away with it. Nobody will be able to disturb the books until we get back."

Draco tried to ignore the lump in his throat when she said 'we'. It had been a while since anyone had cared like that. He shook his head and reminded himself of his mother's words to focus his mind - she was stopping him from drowning, he wanted to be rich in honesty and she was a good means to an end.

"Alright, Granger, I give in. But dinner isn't for a few hours-"

"Oh, that doesn't matter, Malfoy. Come on!"

The walk down to the kitchens wasn't a particularly long one and being a relatively warm October weekend, the corridors were empty. The sight of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger walking together did still cause a few students to stop and stare, including an unfortunate incident with a young Gryffindor who walked into a wall.

On reaching the portrait, Hermione turned to Malfoy and smirked, before tickling the pear and gaining access to the kitchens beyond.

"Winky!"

A small house elf appeared before her with a pop. He was dressed in a smart-looking tablecloth.

"Miss Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Winky is by the fire. She overindulged again, Miss. Please don't give me clothes, Miss."

"That's alright, Winston. I have no hats with me today," she added, ignoring Malfoy's snickering. "Thank you for telling me where she is."

Hermione led Malfoy to the far end of the room and stopped just in front of the large fireplace. In front of the fire was a small bundle of blankets and Hermione approached and knelt beside them. Unwrapping them carefully she revealed a rather dishevelled looking she-elf.

Winky slowly opened her big eyes at the intrusion. She had been getting better since the battle, and the other elves were helping, but she'd had just a little too much butterbeer the night before and now someone was trying to rouse her before dinner. Looking up she saw a familiar smiling face and a boy she didn't know, but with those features she could hardly fail to recognise - all house elves knew of the Malfoys since Dobby.

"Miss Hermione! Winky is deeply sorry, Miss Hermione, Winky just had a few sips last night, to stop the night terrors, Winky doesn't know how it happened, Miss, she will make sure it does not happen again-"

"Relax, Winky. You're allowed to let loose. I didn't come here to check up on you," Hermione smiled at the little elf. "I actually came because I need your help, well, we need your help, really."

Winky eyed the pointy faced blond wizard before her. She could remember the horror stories Dobby would tell of the Malfoys, but this boy stood, impassive but quiet behind Miss Hermione. She had brought him to the kitchens so he couldn't be all bad. As Winky looked closer she noticed the bags under his eyes, the stubble, and the fact that he was still in robes on a weekend.

He was a wizard in need of caring for, and that was something she could do.

"And how can Winky serve Miss Hermione and the young Malfoy?"

Hermione faltered and her eyes flicked from the small she-elf to the stony-faced man behind her. She didn't think the Crouch family had much to do with the Malfoys, but the old houses had links she would never understand. She was trying to riddle it out when Malfoy interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm famished, Winky, is it?" She nodded. "I missed at least two meals and Miss Granger here has decided I need rescuing, so some food - whatever you have going is fine - and some pumpkin juice. That will probably satisfy her - and me."

Winky beamed at the instruction and got to work, shouting over her shoulder that they were not to worry, the young Malfoy would be well fed in no time.

Hermione rose from the floor and stared at Malfoy.

"What, Granger? Speechless again?"

"I, it's just-" she spluttered. "Winky hasn't been the same for a long time, but you give her an order, without so much as a 'by your leave' and she jumps up to satisfy it."

Draco smirked.

"I know you tried to free all the elves back in, what was it, third year? But most elves don't want to be freed. You may disagree with it, but I have lived with elves a bit longer than you have, so I think I know them better. Winky needs orders - she needs a purpose. Elves that aren't given orders sometimes think it's their fault. They can get pretty low."

Hermione just stared as he made himself comfortable at one of the tables closest to the fire. They made small talk until his food arrived; how he was finding the Arithmancy homework, what possessed him to take Divination, and then when his food arrived, they discussed the virtues of elvish cooking.

Once he'd had his fill and Hermione had picked at a cauldron cake and a glass of pumpkin juice Winky had all but insisted she have, they made their goodbyes to the elves and headed back to the library.

"So how did you find the entrance to the kitchens?"

"Oh, um," Hermione blushed. "It was when I was trying to free all the house elves. I think a lot of Hufflepuffs know where it is, as it's so close to their dorms. Do none of the Slytherins sneak food then?"

"Not that I'm aware." Noticing her flushed face, he continued. "Granger, did we just break the rules?"

"Um, well, yes, technically. But you were hungry so I think I could probably talk the headmistress round if I needed to."

"Well I never - Hermione Granger, rule breaker. Who would have thought?"

She guffawed in a very unladylike manner.

"We broke into a bank, you don't think I always follow the rules, do you?"

At Draco's raised eyebrow she blushed even further, and returned to her work, her hands pinning her hair back as it tried desperately to escape a bun held together with two quills.

He suddenly had the urge to pull out those quills to see if her hair was still as crazy and unmanageable as it always was. He made a note to punch Theo hard in the arm tonight to pay him back for putting these ideas in his head.


	10. The Attack

**_Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling._**

October rolled into November and Hermione noticed the Slytherin students were starting to come out of their self-imposed restraint bit by bit. Even Greg Goyle, who seemed to her less and less like the hulking bully he had in previous years, had sniggered at a tripping jinx thrown by a fifth year Slytherin at a group of Ravenclaws, who retaliated with tickling hexes until the whole corridor was in stitches.

Only that afternoon she'd had to break up a group of Gryffindor fourth years led by Dennis Creevey who had taken offence to Theo wolf whistling at Hermione as she hugged Neville in the corridor. It didn't seem to matter to them that she'd explained that Theo was a friend and as much as it was outdated and she would be discussing gender inequality with Theo in great detail later, friends were allowed to wolf whistle at one another. Honestly, the way they were carrying on you'd think she was some delicate flower, not a war heroine.

She had managed to avoid rounds for most of the term, delegating the responsibility to the younger years. But it was finally her turn and she'd picked Malfoy to partner with her. She'd made an effort to partner him with people she could trust to be professional and so far, nobody had disappointed. The other benefit of completing rounds with Malfoy was that, as seventh years, they could both handle themselves so they could split up the route and cover twice as much ground.

She was just finishing up, coming down to the main hall from Ravenclaw tower to meet Malfoy in the entrance hall, when she heard a commotion in the hallway leading to the dungeons. She drew her wand and advanced quickly and quietly.

Rounding the corner, she saw Malfoy on the floor surrounded by a group of five, writhing in what appeared to be agony, but laughing hysterically. One of the group was obviously a lookout and as soon as she arrived, they ran, casting shield charms against her impediment and petrifying jinxes. She managed to catch one and quickly bound him and summoned his wand to her open hand before entering the hallway.

She approached the scene slowly. Malfoy looked so vulnerable she almost had to fight the urge to hug him. Almost.

"Malfoy? Are you ok?"

He looked up slowly. His grey eyes were dry, but it was clear he had been holding back tears earlier. He tried to force himself to scowl at her, as he had done a hundred times before, but he didn't have the energy.

"What do you want, Granger?" He sighed. "Come to cheer on your little Gryffindor hit squad?"

"Gryffindors?"

Hermione approached the incapacitated and bound wizard a few paces from Malfoy. She recognised the reddish-brown hair immediately and as she turned him over, she looked into the furious eyes of Dennis Creevey.

"Oh Dennis," she muttered sadly. She checked he was ok and wasn't going anywhere before turning back to his victim.

"I had nothing to do with-" Hermione insisted, but he interrupted her with a scoff.

"You seriously want me to believe that those Gryffindorks just happened to find me on the one night we patrol alone?"

"I don't care what you believe," she was trying to keep her temper under control but his sneer was so familiar she felt like it was before the war, that they hadn't been civil all term. "I can't say I've ever really cared for what you believe, Malfoy!"

"There it is!" He crowed, but there was no victory in his voice, as it cracked. "Come on then, gloat, tell me this is what I deserve for taking the Mark, for being a pawn, for being evil-"

"I don't think you're evil" she interjected, the anger dissipating at his tone. "I mean, you did some pretty awful things, but you were a boy, following in your father's footsteps. It doesn't make you evil. Misguided, unwise, even. But not evil."

He blinked once, twice, and just stared like he was seeing her for the first time. He still couldn't find the malice he was looking for.

"You know, for someone who always seemed to know what to say to cut me deepest you don't know me very well at all. I don't gloat." she huffed.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. Here he was, bruised and curse damaged on the floor and she was protesting that he'd insulted her honour. She was something else.

They stared at each other for a moment before he let his head fall back and sighed.

"Alright, so you're not here to gloat. What are you doing down here then, didn't trust me to complete my rounds alone?"

She looked at him as if he had grown a new head clean out of the top of the first one.

"I was finishing up my own rounds and I heard something, and I thought you could maybe use some help," she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, I know they didn't use any particularly dangerous spells, but you look like you've taken quite the thrashing."

She wanted to help.

He sat looking at her with his mouth wide. For the past two years he had done everything on his own, first his impossible task, then surviving his own house, then the battle and finally his trial. Ok, so people had tried to help along the way; his mother, Snape, Dumbledore, and his friends had tried in their own small, Slytherin way. But he'd been too young and stubborn to accept any help until it was too late, and nobody wanted to help anymore.

Well, almost nobody, apparently. Hadn't the Griffindors already thrown him enough lifelines this year to prove that statement?

"You actually want to help me?" he whispered. It was almost too good to be true, he feared that if he spoke too loudly, he might frighten the goodwill away.

"Yes," she whispered back, mind reeling at the change in his voice. "Of course."

He looked at her again, searching those brown eyes for the hidden meaning, but finding yet again that there wasn't any.

"Why?"

His voice was so quiet she almost missed his question. His grey eyes were swimming, she didn't think she'd ever seen Draco Malfoy look so rattled, and she didn't think she ever wanted to see it again. She sat on the floor next to him.

"Because you need help, and whatever you've done, whatever went on between us, we've known each other for 7 years. We survived a war. I've seen enough suffering to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. And I think you have too."

She stopped and looked down, picking at some fluff on her jumper. She'd been avoiding this conversation since the beginning of term. She'd forged a tentative friendship with Theo Nott, but if she were ever going to get past being awkwardly civil with Draco Malfoy, she needed to get the skeletons out of the closet. In the silence of the hallway she took a deep breath and forged on.

"I think that's why you didn't identify us. I don't know if he told you, but it's why Harry and I decided to defend you. You may not have had quite the rough deal that Harry had but you hardly had it easy. I mean, it can't have been pleasant to watch, I imagine, and in your house, I'll bet it was, well, I don't think I want to know."

Her voice trailed off into nothingness. The silence hung heavy between them. Slowly his chuckling brought her back to the present.

"You're laughing at me."

He shook his head although the movement caused him to wince and stop abruptly.

"No, I'm not, I'm just stunned."

When she didn't say anything, he continued.

"I mean, you and Potter, and even Weasley, though I'm loathe to admit it, had the roughest deal of all. A year on the run, a madman and his cronies – my father included – trying to kill you for years, threatening your families, your friends dying in front of you, being captured and-" he swallowed hard. He'd deliberately avoided talking about it, but he supposed she'd been brave enough to broach the subject, so he didn't need to be the courageous one.

"Captured and tortured, in my house, by my mad aunt no less, while I looked on and did nothing, except lie unconvincingly, and you're trying to imagine the hardships I faced because my parents had some interesting houseguests.

"I always thought maybe you were sorted into the wrong house, with your love affair with the library you had Ravenclaw written all over you, but you weren't. You're a bleeding-heart Gryffindor through and through."

She scrunched up her face.

"You say it like it's a bad thing. Being a bleeding-heart Gryffindor is what kept me going, what kept me fighting for the right thing. It's what won the war."

She paused, the weight of her words hanging between them like lead weights. Then she quirked an eyebrow and looked quizzically at him.

"Besides, I do not have a love affair with the library!"

His bark of laughter surprised even him. He tried to remember the last time he'd laughed like that but couldn't. It could have been fifth year.

"I think that's the first time I've heard you laugh when it wasn't at the expense of someone less fortunate than yourself."

His smile became even broader. His whole face changed, and Hermione almost gasped at the transformation. Even bruised and bloody his smile was breath-taking, and she found herself staring into grey sparkling eyes, losing herself for a moment.

She cleared her throat and looked away.

"Right, well," she fussed with her robes and the two wands in her hands. "Dennis isn't going anywhere soon so do you need help getting to Madam Pomfrey, or do you need any healing spells before we move you? I'm not excellent at them but I read a few books last year as a precaution so I can do a bit of patching if needs be."

He sighed again; his pride would have to wait. Besides, she'd had plenty of opportunity to gloat already and he wasn't going to make it to the infirmary on his own.

"My legs, they used some sort of binding curse, they're pretty banged up and I'm not sure I'd be steady on them."

"I could transfigure a stretcher if you'd like?"

"Merlin, no. I don't need that getting round the school. It's bad enough that I'll have to see Pomfrey in the first place, don't need them thinking I'm actually an invalid."

She nodded and began to work on some strengthening spells on his legs, doing her best not to touch the obviously bruised and battered limbs.

"Do you think you could try standing?" she asked tentatively and held out her hand.

It was a test, and they both knew it.

He looked at it for a moment before sighing again and taking it to pull himself up into an upright position, only to promptly stumble on unsteady legs and almost bring them both crashing down. She grabbed him quickly to stop them both from toppling.

Manoeuvring them so that she was supporting him with one arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders she checked he was ok once more before setting off for the infirmary.

It was mercifully empty and Madam Pomfrey helped him to the first bed and began performing a series of diagnostic spells whilst asking a series of questions about the events of the evening.

Deciding that he probably didn't need an audience for a retelling of the evening's events, Hermione turned to leave, dreading explaining the situation to the Headmistress. Before she'd taken two steps, long thin fingers coiled round her wrist, stopping her.

"Thanks, Granger."

Those piercing grey eyes were so open, so honest in that moment that she had to resist the urge to hug him. She just nodded and made her way to the Headmistress' office to report Dennis' actions, more confused than ever about the blond man who had returned to school this year.

* * *

At breakfast the following morning, news of the attack on Malfoy had spread like wildfire. It seemed to be all anyone could talk about.

Some first years were gossiping loudly by the doors of the great hall about how much blood he'd supposedly lost and laughing about how much paler he'd look. Hermione took 5 house points from each of their houses and shooed them to their classes.

She huffed as she plopped herself down on the bench next to Ginny.

"Honestly, it's not funny. It's not like they've ever seen a real attack, most of them were sheltered from the war. It is hardly gossip!"

"Oh, come on 'Mione, it's ferret boy, it's funny!" Ron jeered. "I heard he couldn't use his legs after they used too many tickling jinxes combined with leg-locker curses. Never thought of that combination, but it's genius! I'm sure George would appreciate the tip. Shame Dennis got caught though, poor little sod, he'll be in detention for weeks."

Ron continued to stuff food into his mouth throughout, without looking up. This meant he missed Harry and Ginny's warning looks. When he realised the table had fallen silent, he finally looked up from his food.

"Wha'?"

"You are unbelievable, Ronald Weasley! A student has been attacked, by Gryffindors no less, set upon five wands to one, and beaten and kicked and you think it's funny? I suppose you'd be ok if it were you, or me, or Harry in that situation. Would it be funny then?"

Ginny put a reassuring hand on her arm but accidentally touched her scar and Hermione promptly jerked her arm away and mumbled something about not having an appetite anymore before rushing from the hall.

"Nice one, Ron."

"I didn't do anything, she's just overreacting. She'll see the funny side by lunchtime. You know how she gets, remember the house elves thing?" Ron nodded as if his argument was made and returned to his breakfast. "Slytherins are the new house elves. She'll get over it."

Ginny shook her head. Her brother really was an idiot sometimes.

Hermione walked and walked; she had a free period and she had intended to use it to study but she knew the library would be the first place her friends looked for her. Besides, she couldn't have concentrated on her Potions essay, she was too worked up. Malfoy had suspected the rest of his attackers were Gryffindors and Ron's reaction had been telling - despite all her best efforts, house unity was taking a long time to change the minds of some people.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't realise where she was walking until her feet stopped in front of the large doors of the infirmary. She smiled to herself; her feet knew just what she needed to clear her mind. Pushing the door open, she slipped in quietly.

Madam Pomfrey was tending to a small first or second year boy who was hiccoughing large purple bubbles on the nearest bed. Hermione bid her good morning, and in response the mediwitch nodded her head to the far end of the room where a single bed was occupied. Hermione approached; her view of the occupant obscured by the curtain until she reached the foot of his bed.

He was sitting up, reading a potions book that had seen better days. She stood watching him for a moment, the sun from the high windows making his hair seem to glow, even with the curtain drawn to partially block its rays. Someone had obviously provided him with some clothes, and he sat in a green t-shirt that was so dark it was almost black. It was a striking look, even Hermione had to admit.

"If you're going to stand there and stare all day, I might consider charging for the privilege."

He put a leather bookmark in his page and carefully placed the book on his bedside table before finally turning his gaze to his visitor, who was blushing crimson.

"Oh, please," she muttered. "You love the attention and you don't need the galleons. I'm surprised you don't pay for people to stare at you, not the other way around."

Draco scowled in response.

"I see you're all better."

"Pomfrey won't let me leave," he grumbled. "I tried to convince her I was ok to go at sunrise this morning, but she wasn't having any of it. Something to do with studying the aftereffects, making sure my legs are up to the challenge of holding up my ego."

Hermione couldn't help her giggles at that. The raised eyebrow only encouraged her to laugh more openly and she sat down on the edge of the bed, chuckling.

"What are you doing, Granger?"

"Oh relax," she waved him off with a hand. "I'm just sitting, I'm not going to hug you, or anything. Don't get so worked up."

Draco observed as she crossed and uncrossed her ankles and fiddled with her hands in her lap. Even without having been taught to read people from a young age, he could tell she wanted to talk.

"Spit it out, Granger, the cogs in your head are unbearably loud."

She started a little at his abrupt breaking of the silence between them, but she smiled.

"I wanted to know who else attacked you," she began, tentatively. "Dennis is going to be in detention for a very long time – and he'll see a mind healer to deal with the death of his brother properly – but perhaps the others could benefit from it as well.

"I know you probably don't want to say, I dare say a few years ago there'd have been an inquest and shouts of "my father" and-"

"Please don't mention Lucius."

His voice was emotionless and loud enough to cut her off mid-sentence, but he didn't shout. It was cold and reserved. She floundered for a minute, and her hands fidgeted in her lap again.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not, Granger. He tried to kill you more than once. Don't be sorry he's in prison," he scoffed. "I know I'm not."

"I'm not sorry he's in prison, and it was Dolohov who tried to kill me the first time, for the record," she argued. "I'm just sorry for mentioning him and making you uncomfortable."

She summoned all her Gryffindor courage and offered him an olive branch.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No!" She recoiled from his raised voice and he sneered. "No, Granger. I know you bleeding-hearts love to talk it all out but I don't want to talk about it, I'm not telling you who else attacked me and I'm not about to join your sorry little war survivors support group."

"You'd rather keep it all bottled up and lash out at people who are trying to help?"

Draco smirked as her eyes flashed with that familiar anger.

"Exactly. You've been on the receiving end of that enough to recognise it, I should think."

"Why do you do that? Push people away when there's nobody to see?" Hermione watched as he flinched slightly, and softened. "I'm sure being aloof and unattainable is a real hit with the Slytherin witches but seeing as they're not here maybe you could just be you? You might like it."

A smile blossomed slowly on her face.

"You never know, I might like it too."

Brown eyes met grey and her smile faltered as he paled.

"You might?"

"I mean, people might like it," she spluttered, quickly. "Other people, you know, including me. It would be like an experiment. It might even work."

Hermione's voice tapered off, and her hands fidgeted as she averted her gaze. She laughed nervously.

"Merlin that was embarrassing," she muttered. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant it might make a nice change. You've been civil since the beginning of the year and I think you meant it when you said you wanted a clean slate. And Theo's such a darling; now he's not cursing the ground I walk on, that is. Maybe I could stand to be friends with other Slytherins."

Draco raised an eyebrow and surveyed the witch in front of him.

He'd spent so long disliking her, it just came naturally. Even when he was trying to be civil it came across as hostile. This woman, the only one trying to keep them afloat - trying to help, of all things - was trying to start a friendship with him. With the boy who had tormented her for years.

He tried to remember why he hated her, but it wouldn't come, his father's idiotic blood prejudices thoroughly discarded in his mind. Her teeth had been fixed a long time ago, her hair was more curly than frizzy, and although it did seem to have a mind of its own, she seemed to have grown into it. She was sharp and witty and funny, and undoubtedly the cleverest witch in the school, probably including the teachers.

He was awed for a moment. He realised he wanted to be her friend. As much as she seemed to bestow her friendship on many people, it seemed like a gift, and after the year he'd endured he deserved a gift.

And after all, a Malfoy always got what they wanted.

"I'm not sure how. I've never had many friends, Granger," he held a hand up to silence her protest. "I'm not unpopular by any stretch, but I have more acquaintances and certainly more people interested in my name and my vaults than I have friends.

"And after last year, I don't think it's a good idea."

Hermione's eyebrows knotted together and the overly quizzical look she gave him was almost comical.

"Why?"

He barked with laughter, but unlike his outbursts the night before it was colder, more calculating.

"Really, Granger?"

"Oh, honestly, people just need to get over it," she stated, matter-of-factly. "You were acquitted. Whatever you did, you paid your dues and you should be forgiven."

"Forgiven?"

He quirked an eyebrow, but her gaze was unwavering.

"Yes."

He pretended he didn't understand the double meaning in her simple answer.

He had thought a lot about forgiveness. His mother had told him endlessly that he was not to blame. She'd spent hours over the summer admonishing him for being melancholy, particularly after the trial, and encouraged him to put it behind him so that others would too.

But if he couldn't put it behind him, how could he expect others to?

"Forgiveness is a way off, Granger." He rested his hands in his lap. He looked so forlorn, Hermione had to again resist the urge to pull him into her arms and tell him she forgave him until they were both a pile of tears. This was so much easier with Gryffindor boys.

"But I'll make you a deal, when I do feel like I'm ready for forgiveness, you'll be the first to know."

Her smile was infectious, and he found himself smirking just a little as she left, promising to come back later with his homework for the day for the classes they shared.

In the corner of the infirmary Poppy watched in shock as the Head Girl left, making a note to speak to the Headmistress at dinner. She did love a good bit of gossip.


End file.
